


Choosing Your Own Fate.

by Jessiikaa15



Series: Embracing Evil. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 4th Year, Blood, Dark!Harry, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore, Pre-Slash, Severe Abuse, Underage Kissing, Violence, light bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessiikaa15/pseuds/Jessiikaa15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Read the tags.</p><p>#parseltongue#</p><p>Posted on FF.</p><p>Re-written from FF.</p><p>Un'Beta'd.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags.
> 
> #parseltongue#
> 
> Posted on FF.
> 
> Re-written from FF.
> 
> Un'Beta'd.

_**Embracing Evil:** _ _**Series 1:** _

_**Chapter 1;** _

 

Harry stood in shock as the Dark Lord was reborn. Wormtail passed over a bone white wand and power flowed through the air, Harry watched in awe; this was power. Harry knew he was a powerful wizard, and he wasn’t merely being arrogant. He had performed magical feats that he knew fully qualified wizards would struggle with, not to mention he had _made_ sure he was powerful. To the point where he knew he would be able to crush any student within the school if it came to a duel, he didn’t know what his odds would be against a group, but on a one to one basis he knew he would be the victor. Of course, he was at a slight disadvantage, his magic had not matured yet, and there was nothing he could actively do about that; it would come naturally at the age of seventeen. The only thing he could do as he waited for the years to go by was perfect his abilities in preparation for his magic to mature, that way, when it came to his majority, he would not have to learn everything, merely regain control; something he much preferred the sound of.

It was why he liked to keep himself close to someone of power. Dumbledore was a prime example of that. Harry hated the man personally, it wasn’t really surprising when one looked at the bigger picture. Dumbledore had screwed the Potter orphan over many times, it was a wonder that the old man didn’t at least suspect Harry’s less than positive emotions regarding the aged warlock. But then, if Dumbledore suspected then Harry was clearly not keeping himself in control, and that meant he was failing. Despite everything though, the old man was powerful and it served Harry well to keep himself close to someone such as the headmaster.

This though, this-this _power_. Harry breathed in through his mouth, it was thick and enticing, swarming around him like it was an extension to the person it belonged to; Harry could taste it. It was like chocolate, it lingered on his taste buds and Harry breathed in again, trying to taste more of this wonderful magic. Yes. This was something else entirely. If this was what people felt when they stood before the Dark Lord, he could completely understand why the man had amassed so many followers, so many _powerful_ individuals, who were willing to do the man’s bidding. It was _intoxicating._ Harry remembered feeling magic back when he had met the memory of the Dark Lord in the chamber second year, even in an echo-like state the man was powerful; something Harry had admired then, but it was nothing like this.

Harry blinked, clearing this thoughts and looking at the Dark Lord, his current form was surprising and… unique. He as tall, and inhumanly pale, completely hairless, with snake-like features and bright eyes. What captured Harry’s attention was the colour of those eyes, they were oddly mesmerising, with cat-like pupils, the colour of freshly spilt blood shone against the white skin, and were almost luminous against the inky darkness that shrouded the graveyard. The last time they had met was not under the best of circumstances, Harry had found himself battling over something he had no intentions of battling over, the philosophers’ stone was not something that interested him and he never had any plans to stop the Dark Lord from gaining what he wanted.

He had liked to think that the man could be reasonable, Dark Lord he may be, but he had still been in charge of an army and Harry had intended to make himself useful. That didn’t happened and it had ended with the Dark Lord trying and failing to kill him. Harry didn’t know how this meeting was going to go, but he had a lot more up his sleeve this time and, witnessing the man’s power first hand, Harry could see that it would be a very wise decision to make himself appealing to the Dark Lord. He noticed, a bit belatedly, that there was no anger on the unique features before him, the crimson eyes were looking at him almost curiously and Harry blinked.

“Harry Potter,” The Dark Lord’s voice was light, and he spoke in almost a greeting.

“Lord Voldemort,” Harry returned, keeping his voice perfectly even. Voldemort’s eyes trailed over the teen tied in front of him, there was something _different_ about him, something _darker._ It conflicted with the image presented to the world, everyone knew that Harry Potter was the Golden Boy, the perfect Gryffindor student; too perfect. He closed his eyes and let the magic surrounding the boy wash over him and his eyes snapped over, it was _delicious_. It was powerful, a lot more so than any other his age could hope to achieve, and he could feel it flowing rapidly, telling him it was active at that very moment. His eyes ran over the boy again, this time almost frantically, looking for the reason for the magic when he spotted it. Just below the boys right ear there was a slight blurring, indicating glamours, and he found himself surprised. Just what else was this teen hiding?

“You are different.” Voldemort noted, “I can feel your power, and you have secrets; so many secrets.” Harry could hear the interest in the man’s voice and he felt his lips twitch.

“Power, yes.” He allowed, not saying anything about being different or the secrets, something the Dark Lord noticed and smirked slightly.

“You are darker too,” He pointed out.

“It is getting harder to hide,” Harry admitted, and then his lip curled in to a disgusted sneer, “Especially from Snape.” Voldemort raised an eyebrow at the amount of venom in the teen’s tone, it was lined with nothing but hatred and contempt. He had heard, from his servant inside of Hogwarts, that there was a vicious rivalry between Snape and Potter, but he had been led to believe that the boy was cowed by the dour potions master. It seemed as if that assessment was mistaken, the fire in the teen’s eyes told him as much, if it wasn’t evident enough in the tone.

“I see so much wasted potential, you could be great.”

“I wouldn’t say wasted.” Harry disagreed, “And greatness comes to those who want it enough.”

“Surrounding yourself by those favoured by Dumbledore equals to wasted potential.” Voldemort told him, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Dumbledore is currently a man who holds much power and many powerful positions within this world. Surrounding one’s self with those favoured by Dumbledore is smart.” Harry corrected and Voldemort’s smirk became even more apparent.

“Many secrets indeed,” He murmured. “You should embrace the darkness inside yourself.”

“How would I accomplish such a feat?” Harry asked, “After all, I am the figurehead of everything light and good. Harry Potter, the hailed saviour of the wizarding world.” His distaste was inherently obvious. Voldemort took a step towards the teen, his red eyes shining brightly.

“You could do extraordinary things.” He whispered, unconsciously repeating the same phrase he used back in Harry's first year. “All you would have to do is join me.” Harry blinked in surprise, he had not been expecting the offer so openly. He had to take time to think it over. There were pros and cons with each side, if he didn’t accept the offer then he would be pitting himself with Dumbledore, and those that surrounded him permanently. He would be forced to return to the abuse that Dumbledore had left him to with no hope of getting away, he would have to accept the people around him, despite the fact that there were no feelings there and some he really couldn’t stand. And he would have to change everything that made him who he was, that meant cutting out the dark arts and the secret magics that he held dear. He would have to embrace the image he created and become the Boy-Who-lived, champion of the light.

On the other hand, if he accepted the offer he would be subjecting himself to a life of servitude to the Dark Lord, an underling no matter how powerful and useful of an underling he could be. But he would be able to embrace the dark arts, anything that was forbidden would become open to him. He could kill the muggles that made him suffer, and he could, eventually shake off those who he believed to be excess baggage. And it wasn’t as if he disagreed with the dark agenda. From what he had been able to gather, through well timed questions, personal research and eavesdropping, there were many things he wholeheartedly agreed with. He absolutely hated muggles, despised the filthy creatures and the sooner they cut ties with that world the better. They were only food for experiments and pleasure, both of which Harry had had his fair share of. He didn’t have any love for mudbloods either, especially ones like Granger. They came to the magical world and took away valued traditions, having them replaced with the disgusting muggle ones; it was no wonder the purebloods wanted them gone. They were coming to magical world, they should be made to change their ways, not the other way around; it made Harry sick.

The only obstacle was the whole murder of his parents. It made Harry laugh, everyone assumed that he hated the Dark Lord simply because the man had murdered his parents, but it just wasn’t true. He had spent ten years of his life being told that his parents were good-for-nothing drunks, he had absolutely no attachment to them whatsoever, and he never would, so he didn’t see the point on wasting valuable time hating their murderer. Especially given the fact that they were killed during a war. There were expectations when you entered a war, it was understood that there was a chance you were going to die, and they decided to fight anyway. Besides, Dumbledore could have made Harry's life a lot better, he was the one to put Harry with the Dursleys in the first place. Overall, the pros did outweigh the cons, he could adapt, it was what he did best after all, and, on the plus side he would have more of a chance of living. Seeing as it was, apparently, the Dark Lord wanting him dead, if he joined the dark his most dangerous assailant would no longer be a problem. Really, it was a simple answer, and he had a feeling the Dark Lord knew his decision if his smirk was anything to go by.

“I accept,” He answered verbally, and he felt a flash of pleasure that wasn’t his own.

“Welcome, Harry Potter, to the Dark Rule.” Voldemort murmured, and Harry felt a thrill run through him at that. Voldemort waved his wand releasing Harry from his bonds, the teen wasn’t expecting the sudden release and fell forward; directly in to the Dark Lord’s arms. Harry’s cheeks flamed as he steadied himself, and his flush darkened as he heard the Dark Lord release a low chuckle. He stepped back and flicked his wrist, summoning his wand to him and allowed his magic to flare briefly before it settled and he looked back at the Dark Lord.

“Wandless magic?”

“Ah, a little side project, if you will.” Harry said and he nodded.

“And the reason for the glamours?” He asked and Harry snapped around in shock.

“Excuse me?”

“You are wearing a glamour.” Voldemort stated, “Why?” Harry paled slightly, this was the first time he had ever been caught out since he had been in first year. Since he had first entered Hogwarts only one person had noticed, hell, he had been face to face with Dumbledore and he had never noticed.

“How do you know about that?” Harry questioned, eyeing him warily.

“You have the tiniest of blurs below your right ear.” Voldemort told him and Harry muttered a curse, his hand automatically rising to the offending area.

“You are the first one to notice since first year.” Harry said, the wariness not leaving his eyes.

“You still have not given me an answer.” Voldemort pointed out amused, and Harry blushed lightly, looking down. He ran a hand through his hair somewhat self-consciously, it had been a long time since he had shown someone what was under the glamour. HA! Who was he kidding? He had never shown anyone, the only ones who saw what he really looked like was the Dursleys, and that was only because he had grown up there.

“I used to get ridiculed for how I look when I was growing up.” Harry began, “See, I wasn’t handsome or strong looking, I was, well… _pretty._ Then, the first thing I hear when I was introduced to the wizarding world is how much I was supposed to look like my father and the glamours came from that. I don’t much care now, I no longer seek approval from anyone, especially those I grew up with; it’s just habit now.”

“You will no longer have to hide behind glamours.” Voldemort said softly, “You have no image to uphold, nor expectations to like up to.”

“It’s an odd thought,” Harry admitted, smiling wryly. He waved a hand over his face and his features softened before Voldemort’s eyes, they no longer held the pureblood Potter look, and his skin cleared to a creamy complexion. His eyelashes were inky and they filled out curled around the glistening emerald eyes, thin, pale lips coloured and plumped up in to a perfect pout and the deep pink stood out against the pale skin. The hair, which was famous for defying gravity, lengthened and fell like spun silk around Harry’s face, curling around his ears and down over the lightning bolt scar, and darkened to the colour of a ravens wing. Finally, his figure softened, curving out and he lost an inch of height making him lithe but also somewhat dainty, and he then removed his glassed and shook himself, adjusting to his own skin.

Any feelings that reared up within the Dark Lord were ruthlessly squashed as he beckoned Harry forward, he pressed a black half mask to cover the teen’s face, allowing those jewel like eyes to shine through, and he ran his hand through the silky hair adding streaks of colour. He blinked, slightly surprised, when shocking green, fuchsia, violet, neon orange and electric blue flared to life within the black tresses, and he smirked at the slight purring issuing from the teen.

“That is unexpected.” Voldemort mused, and Harry tilted his head so he elaborated, “The spell I used adds colour based on personality. The majority of people have a maximum of two colours, I have seen three at most, and they are never this bright.” Harry grinned to that, it wasn’t a surprise that he was different; it was something he had got used to a long time ago.

“What can I say? I tend to be unusually abnormal, to the point where it’s often annoying and in your face. It’s what I’m here for.” Harry said.

“Oh?”

“Oh yeah. I’m rather good at it.” Harry agreed, “To start; how in Merlin’s name do you know that spell, anyway?” Voldemort looked away and Harry snickered.

“It was rather popular when I was at school.”

“I see,” Harry said with a nod, smirking still, “But I am still Harry Potter, and, you should know, before you fully accept my uh new role that I tend to get away with things nobody else can.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.” Harry nodded, “Making highly inappropriate comments, skipping around causing chaos, and just generally be a pain… _Tom._ ” The grin on Harry’s face was Cheshire, his pearly white teeth flashing in the darkness, revealing slightly pointed canines as he bounced around the Dark Lord.

“Must you call me by that disgusting name?” Voldemort sighed, the usual anger that came with hearing not appearing. He had a horrible feeling he would be getting used to that particular name again and that thought made him want to groan, that and the sinking feeling that Harry Potter was going to be a lot more hassle than not.

“Of course, Tom. It’s what I’m here for.” Harry stated surely, not stopping in his bouncing. The Dark Lord went to grab him, if only to keep him still for a few moments, but Harry burst in to thick black smoke and appeared in the same fashion on the other side of the man. Voldemort blinked twice at that, his mind turning over exactly what that was before deciding that it was not important yet.

“I need to call my Death Eaters, so I won’t ask what that was yet.” Voldemort said and Harry pouted over the lack of reaction, he looked down as the Dark Lord waved his wand to transfigure his clothes and nodded at the black slacks and t-shirt, forgoing the thick black hood.

“You will be able to return to Hogwarts, Dumbledore will be remain unknowing as you are unrecognisable.”

Harry nodded pleased, he did have much to learn and he did like the castle. It would be a shame for him to have to leave until the Dark won the upcoming war. They both turned at the sound of a shuffle and a choked sob, Wormtail was huddled in the shadows, cradling the bloody stump where his hand used to be. Harry looked at him in utter disgust, he couldn’t help but smirk at the rat’s pain, and hoped it was really hurting him.

“He’s unreliable,” Harry noted, “And also known to run at the sign of trouble, must you keep him?” Voldemort spared him an amused glance at the self-suffering tone.

“Yes, he can be useful and I do not know the full extent to my death eaters.” He told them teen, who huffed, somewhat petulantly, and flounced away to sit on the gravestone he was bound on previously.

“Fine,” Harry sniffed. Rolling his eyes, Voldemort flicked his wand to seal the wound, replacing it with a silver hand.

“Th-thank you, M-master.” Wormtail stuttered, kneeling and kissing the hem of his master’s robe. Harry didn’t even bother concealing his snort of derision, there would not be a force on this earth that could make him kneel and kiss anyone’s robes, and anyone who thought otherwise was clearly insane. The Dark Lord ignored Harry’s snort in favour of waving his wand and obliviating the entire evening from Wormtail’s mind, it wouldn’t do for the rat to open his mouth and for Harry's identity to be revealed. Pettigrew went to stumble away but Voldemort grabbed him with a sigh, he pressed his wand against the Dark Mark, causing two moans of pain. Looking back at the teen, Voldemort was alarmed to see his hand clamped over the area where his scar resided, but it was the blood that caught his attention. He muttered a curse and went to the teen, he ran his wand over the scar, once he had removed the hands, murmuring in parsel as he did so. Harry released a relieved sigh, leaning in to the hand soothing him.

“Better?”

“Much,” Harry agreed, but didn’t move.

“Think you can manage, I have a meeting?”

“I suppose.” Harry stood up and used Voldemort’s arm to steady himself, ignoring the raised eyebrow he got in response, and wiped the blood away on the cloak and putting his mask back on. It was just in time as the area was suddenly filled with heavily cloaked figures, they created a large circle, all falling to their knees just as the Dark Lord flicked his wand to hide Cedric’s body and the Triwizard cup. Voldemort looked around at his Death Eaters in mild disgust, these were the ones that had wormed their way out of prison and then made comfortable lives for themselves when he fell, not once, despite swearing lifelong loyalty to him.

“It has been thirteen years and here we stand like it was yesterday.” Voldemort began, his voice ringing out in the otherwise silent night. “I confess myself… disappointed.” Harry watched from his place amused as the Death Eaters stilled in fear, it could almost be tasted in the air and he bit back his urge to laugh at them. “There is a lot to be made up for, none of you tried to find me, even after your vows of loyalty. Had I not told you that I had gone beyond all known means to make myself immortal, and yet you renounce me.” One of the Death Eaters broke the circle and threw themselves at the Dark Lord’s feet.

“Forgive us, My Lord. Forgive me.” He begged and even Harry knew that was a stupid thing to do, Voldemort looked down at the kneeling man with a sneer, the white wand was pointed at him and he was writhing and screaming before he could blink. Harry watched in fascination, the cruciatus curse was a curse that he was very much interested in, and to see it in action, on a person, was brilliant. He had cast the spell himself on training dummies, but to see its effects was something entirely different. He watched as the man twisted at inhuman angles, and the screams that ripped from his throat were at a pitch Harry didn’t know was possible. All too soon it was over, and the man was left panting and crying at the Dark Lord’s feet, he managed to push himself back in to the circle but he was shaking violently.

“Forgive? Lord Voldemort does not forgive, nor does he forget.” He whispered and Harry rolled his eyes at the use of third person; that was arrogance at its best if ever he saw it. “In my absence things have gone unchanged, you will have to prove thirteen years of worthiness before you shall have my forgiveness.” He paced the entire circle of Death Eaters before he continued to speak. “We have many missing tonight. Some, who shall be rewarded greatly, refused to renounce our ways and suffer Azkaban, they shall be collected soon. Others, those who are but a disgrace, turned traitor and shall be killed.” Hissed rang out at the mere mention of traitors, Harry found it somewhat hypocritical of them to even make a sound. Did they not also turn their backs on their Lord and continue with their lives when he was left as a mere shadow? He knew for a fact that Lucius Malfoy was stood within the circle, he had caught sight of the famous blonde hair, and Malfoy had one of the most privileged lives known to man. Voldemort silenced them with a wave of his hand, he obviously shared some of Harry’s opinion because he was looking at them as if he wished them to burn but knew he had to keep them.

“What are Karkaroff? Or Snape?”

Harry couldn’t keep his scoff if utter disgust in even if he had tried, the sound brought everyone’s attention to his presence. Since they had arrived, they had been so surprised and scared of the Dark Lord’s return that they had not paid any attention to the small figure sat on the tomb stone. They were looking now. Harry knew they were curious, they didn’t know who he was, and they couldn’t even guess because he was completely new.

“Snape?” Voldemort said, looking at Harry with a slight smirk.

“Snape is so far up Dumbledore’s ass he can here the old man’s small intestines as they produce the shit that comes from his mouth.” Harry stated in a matter of fact tone, “That and he’s a complete prick, it’s no wonder he was a Death Eater.” There was mutters issuing among the Death Eaters now and Harry rolled his eyes, Voldemort had to fight back his own amusement at the teen. That analogy was rather… detailed, he shook his head with a smirk, Harry would provide some entertainment if anything. The Death Eaters were practically burning with questions, none of which would be answered, they did not deserve to know about his latest prize. Karkaroff was a traitor, he had fled when the mark burned, Voldemort narrowed his eyes, it was a foolish move, and Karkaroff didn’t have enough to offer to be considered to continue living.

“Karkaroff will be found and disposed of within the week.” Voldemort stated, “Traitors are not welcome amid our midst. Show him exactly what happens to those who betray us.”

“Yes, My Lord,” They murmured.

“Our numbers have fallen, we need newer people. Those who believe in the right ideas, or those who can be convinced of our goals, those who are ambitious and young.” Voldemort told them, “Lucius, use your connections to keep my return silent. If they do not know about me then they cannot fight against us.”

“It will be done, My Lord.”

“Those who have been recruited need to be monitored, if they are reporting elsewhere then it could be detrimental to our cause. We do not need spies or leaks within our ranks if we are to have success.” Voldemort looked around at them once more before dismissing them with a gesture of his hand, the only ones who remained were the rat and Harry, who had yet to move from his seated position.

“It is going to take an enormous amount of work to get those fools back up to the required standard.” Voldemort sighed, his long fingers massaging his temples. “Wormtail, back to the manor and have the elves begin cleaning. I have been reborn, I have work to do, I refuse to live in a hovel.” Wormtail couldn’t scurry away fast enough, and Harry watched him in disdain before turning back to the Dark Lord.

“That was not what I expected.” Harry said, tilting his head slightly.

“No?”

“No, there was a lot less screaming.” He was a little disappointed at that, he had always been told the Dark Lord had a thing for torture too. Voldemort chuckled, picking up on the disappointment from the teen, it seemed there was a lot more to Harry Potter than anyone could have guessed. He had watched the teen while he was torturing Avery, the boy seemed fascinated, not a touch of disgust or fear; a welcome factor. 

“There will be future failures.” Voldemort assured and Harry flashed a grin full of teeth.

“Wonderful,”

“Now, if I am correct then Snape will be here soon, which means you need to be gone before he arrives here. He will add your disappearance together with my resurrection, and I do not know exactly what side Snape is on. Until that point, secrecy is ideal.” Voldemort decided, he wasn’t exactly pleased with the option but it was all he had at that moment. He didn’t want to send the teen back, especially not in to Dumbledore’s clutches, Harry Potter was his greatest price. And what a prize he was. Just looking at him sent a shot of possessiveness through the Dark Lord, Harry Potter was his, from his small form to the magic rippling around him absently. He couldn’t help it. He watched the teen, who was looking at his nails completely indifferent and bit back a sigh, he would have to curb his natural urge to hide Harry away for his eyes only.

“What are your plans for me during the summer?” Harry asked, already mentally planning on a number of things that would keep him alive and relatively unharmed.

“It is yet unknown,” Voldemort said after a moment.

“Hm, well, you will have to decide a means of communication. I have the unfortunate experience of residing with ah _wonderful_ muggles, and their company is, well I am sure you understand, less than satisfactory.” Harry said to him, the expression on his face explaining exactly what he thought of his home situation. The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed at that bit of information, it was rumoured that Harry Potter was treated like a prince, things handed to him at a mere snap of his fingers. Though, his Hogwarts servant had gotten his information from Snape. But if he was residing with muggles, well, who knows what they were subjecting the boy to? No, it would not do. His prize would not be forced to stay with the filth that populated the earth, it would not be done.

“I shall send Barty to collect you after the first week. Dumbledore, no doubt, will have you watched to make sure you settle in.” Voldemort said and Harry nearly breathed in relief. A week he could deal with, his life wouldn’t be at risk anyway, and it would depend on how good or bad things were going for Vernon. If the man was drinking excessively then it might be a small problem, but he could keep himself relatively unharmed.

“Ok, a week I can manage.” He agreed, “I will handle the muggles.”

“It is highly unfortunate that you have to deal with them at all.” Voldemort muttered and Harry shrugged.

“Speaking of returning to the castle.” He began, “How do I explain that?” Harry pointed to Cedric’s body. It could be a problem, there was no visible signs of death and it would be rather hard to explain. “I have an image to keep,”

#Nagini, strike.# Voldemort ordered, and Harry’s head snapped around as a gigantic snake reared up from the grass and stuck the body multiple times.

“Mother of Merlin,” He breathed, “She’s good at blending in.” Voldemort merely smirked.

“I assume you can create a reasonable story from this?” He asked and Harry smirked, finally rising to his feet and approaching the Dark Lord. His steps were carefully measured, light and cat like as he moved.

“Oh yes, I do believe coming up with a convincing story will be simple.” Harry agreed, “Acting is a speciality of mine, I have been doing it for years after all.” Voldemort raised on of his hairless eyebrows and Harry’s smirk grew. “What was it you said earlier? So many secrets.”

“It seems that is becoming truer by the second.” Voldemort said, watching the teen carefully. He didn’t know if Harry realised or not, but the teen was being remarkably sultry, he was positively sinful and the Dark Lord had to crush his possessiveness down again. “The trick will be finding out exactly what you are hiding. Your image, perhaps?”

“The whole Gryffindor Golden Boy thing is about as fake as Dumbledore’s grandfather image.” Harry said to him, “I’m not even supposed to be in the lion house.”

“Oh?”

“Hm, yes, the hat was quite insistent but I am supposed to be a saviour and nobody would have liked to have their saviour in Slytherin.” Harry raised a shoulder unconcerned. “Though, I think Dumbledore has been a little free when handing out compulsion charms. To go after the Philosophers’ Stone first year was not of my free will.”

“You are going to cause me a lot of chaos.” Voldemort stated and Harry flashed a grin.

“It really is what I do best.” He agreed, “Though, now we have the perfect alias. You did say secrecy is best.”

“So you are now my Chaos.” The Dark Lord only noticed the possessiveness that sentence held after he had spoken it, he watched the teen’s reaction and almost smirked. Harry recognised the possessive tone and term instantly, it surprised him, but he found himself pleased. It told him that he was not going to be a lowly Death Eater, not that he would have accepted it if the Dark Lord tried to make him so, but still; it seemed the man had other plans anyway.

“Seems I am,” He replied lightly, “What are you going to do about Crouch? Is he going to remain as Moody or is he leaving tonight? The reason I ask is I don’t particularly want to have him try to kill me, I’m not that fond of it.” And then he ginned at the surprised look that flashed across the Dark Lord’s face.

“How-?”

“I’ve known Crouch Jr has been in the castle since the first task.” Harry said, “I wasn’t sure exactly who he was until I noticed his little tic, then it was just a matter of checking the name.”

“It seems you and I will be having an in-depth conversation when you return for the summer.” Voldemort mused, “I am very interested to see what you are hiding.”

“I think you may be surprised.” Harry said to him.

“I believe I will be, but you seem to be filled with delightful ones.”

“I am.” Harry confirmed.

“As for Barty, he shall have to leave tonight. When you return, Dumbledore will scour the castle for anything that leads to your disappearance, even his closest friends.” Voldemort mused, “Are you able to make sure he gets out of the castle without notice?” Harry flashed a wide grin.

“Consider it already done.” Harry said and the Dark Lord nodded. Voldemort waved his wand and liquid silver started to twist itself together, it formed a silver Dark Mark and with another flick of his wand, the Dark Lord conjured up a thin chain and slipped the pendent on. He walked around the teen and slipped it around his neck, his fingers lingering on the pale skin before drawing away.

“This is charmed so that only you or I can give permission for someone to see it.” The Dark Lord told him, his icy breath washing over Harry making him shudder, “Only Barty, you and I have permission for now. Show it to him, or he will probably try to kill you. He should know to leave tonight, as far as he is concerned, you are not supposed to be coming back alive, so expect him.”

“I will, I am partial to living currently. I believe things are just looking up.” Harry said with a small smile, “Though, if Crouch tries to hurt me I swear I’ll Crucio his ass.”

“That I would be interested to see.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“In what way did I seem virtuous?”

Harry laughed.

“You’ll have to be. I have the joys of putting up with blood traitors, mudbloods and Dumbledore.”

“I think I may actually be feeling sympathy.” Voldemort said and Harry grimaced.

“Yeah, I pity me too.” Harry sighed. He waved his wand and the Dark Lord watched as his glamours melted over his true form, he slunk over to where the cup was and dropped down to the floor. “Until the summer?” Harry reached for the cup, he felt the nauseating hooking at the naval and the last thing he heard were the Dark Lord’s whispered words.

“Until the summer, Harry Potter.”

 

* * *

 

 

Harry decided, the moment he slammed in to the ground and his legs gave out, that he hated portkeys. While a great way for instant travelling in larger groups, they were extremely uncomfortable and very unpleasant. He bit back a groan when he heard the grating voice of one of his supposed best friends, he couldn’t even have ten minutes before he had to deal with them. Hermione Granger had been an obvious choice of friendship, she had been isolated and she was a mudblood Gryffindor to boot, Harry knew it finished his look that he was trying to present. After all, someone who befriended the outcast mudblood was obviously a light, good person.

“Harry!” She was getting closer and Harry took a deep breath; time to put on a show. He clutched at Cedric’s body just as the screaming began, the crowd realised that Cedric was not moving and the vibrations on the ground told him more people were trying to rush over. Dumbledore reached him first, the old man crouched down next to him and Harry gave a choked sob of utter despair, his body shaking as the old man led a hand on his shoulder. Hermione was there next and she was quickly followed by the other person Harry had come to label as a best friend; Ronald Weasley. The Weasleys, the biggest bunch of blood traitors in the wizarding world and everyone knew it, so he, being the saviour extraordinaire, befriending them was just a bonus in the eyes of the light. A blood traitor, a mudblood and a saviour, they were the epitome of the light, what Dumbledore wanted everyone to be like, and Harry hated it. They tried to gently pull him of Cedric’s body but he wouldn’t let go.

“No, don’t please!” He begged, crying now.

“What happened, Harry?” Dumbledore asked him, and Harry shook his head violently.

“I couldn’t leave him, not there. He had to be brought back.” Harry cried, finally looking up at Dumbledore, he was covered in the blood from Nagini’s bite, and he had tears smeared down.

“It’s ok, Harry. It’s ok.” Dumbledore assured in a soothing voice, “He’s home, you brought him home.”

“You’re going to be ok, Harry.” Hermione stated.

“Somebody take him to the hospital wing.” Dumbledore demanded. Harry felt someone lift him from the ground and he caught sight of the crowds milling around him before he was rushed up to the wing. Madam Pomfrey was already waiting, and he was carefully placed by the bed so he could change and climb in. It was a familiar bed, one he had visited frequently and he cracked a smile to himself at Poppy’s morbid humour. The matron came over and shot Harry a sympathetic look, one that say ‘you again?’ and he shrugged with a sniff. She waved her wand over him and a sheet of parchment appeared, telling her of his injuries, and Harry caught sight of her slight raised eyebrow but instead of saying anything about the results, that wouldn’t match his current state whatsoever, she continued on with her work.

Over her shoulder, Harry saw Cedric’s body be carried in, a sheet covering him and he was placed on the bed. The body presided the group of people that rushed in, Dumbledore in the lead, closely followed by Amos Diggory, the Weaselys, Hermione and a big black dog. Harry rolled his eyes at the dog, this was a hospital wing and Sirius had barely spoken to him all year, the odd letter and the man had the gall to question him when his name came out of the tournament; so much for faith. Harry had actually heard more from Remus, the werewolf seemed to actually care about him and Harry enjoyed talking to the man, he would be quite unhappy if he was unable to keep it up. Poppy gave the group, the dog in particular, a poisonous look and walked away grumbling.

“If I could have a moment with Mr Potter before everyone crowds.” Dumbledore questioned, looking around at the group. Once they had nodded in agreement, something Harry was bitterly disappointed in, the aged man stepped forward and closed the curtains around the bed, throwing up a silencing spell so none but the dog could hear. Harry was curled on his side, he was still sniffling in to his pillow and peaked out in a frightened manner when Dumbledore laid his hand on his shoulder.

“I am sorry to have to this now, Harry.” He began, his voice lined with supposed concern and Harry mentally scoffed, “If it would be easier to put you to sleep and do this at a later time I would, but I need to know what happened tonight. While the memory is still fresh.” Harry made his breaths become erratic, tears continued to pour down his face and he looked at Dumbledore with fear and he shook his head.

“I don’t know.” He cried, scrunching his eyes closed and fisting his hands in the sheets, “I really don’t know.”

“Calm down,” Dumbledore said, trying to sound soothing but Harry could see the anger in his eyes. The man was impatient and on the edge, Harry would know, he could read people better than anyone and he had learned that because of Vernon; if he didn’t then he ended up in a lot of pain for a long time. He pretended to try and calm his breathing, sucking in a few sharp breathes through his teeth in his effort and he focussed back on Dumbledore.

“It’s all blurry,” He got out, closing his eyes to make it look like he was remembering.

“I need you to focus and think.” Dumbledore stated and Harry nodded jerkily.

“Ok, there’s shouting and flashes of light.” Harry began, “There’s jeers and pain and I don’t know what’s happening. A scream, a hiss from a snake and then Cedric’s screaming, please Cedric, SOMEBODY HELP CEDRIC!” He was thrashing about on the bed in distress, gasped when Dumbledore shook him and Harry came back to himself.

“Can you see anyone, Harry? Anyone at all.”

“No no, it’s dark and I lost my glasses.” Harry whimpered, “Cedric’s not moving, and there is more shouting. Please, help me, anybody, please…” He trailed off and was overcome with sobs, he curled in to himself as if he was protecting himself from the world and Dumbledore gave a muted sigh.

“I will leave you now.” Dumbledore said, “Poppy, he is need of a calming draught.” Dumbledore left after that, taking the dog with him and Harry heard the man tell his congregation to come back tomorrow after he had gotten some rest. Harry mentally thanked him for that, he didn’t want to keep the pretence up for the rest of the night and he wasn’t particularly wanted to sleep with them all around him. He heard the footsteps walk away from him and the door swinging shut telling him he was finally alone, that didn’t last however as Madam Pomfrey was in front of him almost instantly and she gave his a look that clearly stated she was not buying in to the tears or the hysterics.

“I will not ask.” She told him and Harry flashed her a grateful smile.

“You never do.” He pointed out, wiping his face over and removing the tear stains.

“Which, I believe, is extremely beneficial to you.” She stated and Harry grinned.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“Come on, you. You’re in your bed in my wing, you are perfectly able to rest up and deal with the world tomorrow.” She said to him, handing a pink potion that Harry eyed with caution.

“Can’t say I want to deal with the world tomorrow either.” Harry grumbled and she shook her head.

“Drink your potions like a good patient and I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’re the best, Madam Pomfrey.” Harry told her and she smiled slightly.

“You still have to take the potions.”

Harry pouted and drank the concoction down, grimacing as his taste buds were assaulted with the taste of carpet. The next one he had to take was the blood replenisher and he had had enough experience with them to expect the coppery taste that followed, so he didn’t even blink. The final one was a dreamless sleep and Harry wrinkled his nose, she gave him a pointed look and he sighed.

“Fine, but I think you’re mean to me.” He muttered. He took a gulp of the potion and handed it back, he could feel the potion working almost instantly and slumped back.

“Good night,”

 

* * *

 

Harry had found that, over the years of his continual use of potions, dreamless sleep was the one of the most unpredictable medical potions he had ever had to take. It did exactly what it said, it induced a dreamless sleep to the drinker ensuring they would have a restful and undisturbed sleep. What it didn’t tell you was the induced sleep only lasted until your mind and body was fully rested, which was why Harry found himself waking up in the early hours of the morning. He groaned to himself, while, medically, he didn’t need any more sleep, it didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to get out of bed or wake up.

Harry considered the pros and cons of moving and he was about to curl up and go back to sleep when he heard a slight rustle of fabric and his eyes cracked open. He didn’t move, he was more than used to regulating his breathing to feign sleep by now, instead he looked in to the darkness of the wing and tried to see what had caused the noise. Harry was about to brush it off when he caught a flash of electric blue and almost cursed out loud, he had forgotten Crouch in the midst of his performance, and he didn’t want an attempt on his life any time soon. He sighed and rolled over as if he was asleep, in reality he was merely freeing up his right arm, allowing his wand to slip down in to his hand as he did so. There was dull clunk of Moody’s fake leg and Harry shot up, a disarming spell being thrown at the approaching threat before he could stop himself, and his honed reflexes allowed him to catch the disarmed wand.

“Potter!” Moody’s gruff voice cracked through the silent hospital wing and Harry narrowed his eyes.

“Good evening, Crouch.” Harry returned, and he bit back a smirk when the ordinary eye widened slightly.

“What are you talking about?” ‘Moody’ demanded and Harry gave him an unimpressed look.

“Bartemius Crouch Jr, only son and heir to the recently deceased Bartemius Crouch Sr., the actual first person to escape Azkaban and loyal death eater.” Harry said calmly, “Placed in this school by the Dark Lord to ensure my participation and then success in the triwizard tournament.” Silence greeted his words and Harry patiently waited for a response, he didn’t think he was going to get one until he heard Crouch take in a shaky breath.

“How do you know who I am, and what I’m here for?” He demanded, the barest hints of trepidation in his tone.

“I’ve known exactly who you were since the first task.” Harry told him, “As for knowing why you were here, well, once I worked out who you were, it wasn’t all that difficult.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” He asked, confused. “You’re _Harry Potter_ , if you knew I was a death eater, why haven’t you ran to Dumbledore?” Harry tilted his head and regarded Crouch thoughtfully.

“There are many things that you do not know about me, Barty, can I call you Barty?” The man nodded, “I took a highly educated guess as to what you were doing here and why my person was needed in regards to the Dark Lord. Going on that same guess, I knew that it would been in my best interest for me to actively participate and take the portkey to wherever it was going to take me.” Moody/Crouch blinked twice, looking at him as if he had never seen him before and Harry had to hide his grin, he did love surprising people. It was something he could do even if he was in his golden boy guise, he took massive amounts of pleasure in it and he knew it would never get old.

“You risked your life on a guess?” Crouch exclaimed, and then his eyes narrowed, “You are not even supposed to be alive now.”

“It was more than just a guess, I was 90% certain I was correct.” Harry pointed out primly, “Besides, I wanted to meet with the Dark Lord anyway. It has been my intention to speak with him for many years, and tonight seems a good a time as any.”

“He-he has been reborn then.” Crouch breathed in reverence and Harry nodded.

“Very successfully. He called a meeting, there was _far_ less screaming that I had hoped, but you can’t have everything in life.” Harry sighed and Crouch eyed him.

“You have spoken with My Lord?” He questioned slowly, he had an expression that seemed as if he was toying between liking him and wanted to kill him; if that was even possible.

“I have,” Harry confirmed, he pulled out his pendent and Crouch grinned; it looked a little demented on Moody’s face but Harry returned it.

“You’ve joined him.” Crouch stated pleased.

“Yes, I am now his Chaos.” Harry agreed.

“I don’t have to kill you then, that’s good. I’ve grown rather fond of you, Potter, you’re not the idiot some people have claimed you to be.”

“Thanks, I think?” Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

“Snape, he’s where most of my information of you has come from.” Crouch clarified and Harry’s expression went dark.

“Worthless piece of utter shit.” He hissed, “Snape wouldn’t know what I was really like even if I paraded it in front of him, he is too busy being convinced that I am exactly like my father.”

“Yes, I have come to understand that.” Crouch agreed, “Though, you also act as if you are scared of him.”

“Key word; act.” Harry pointed out, “I do what I am expected to do. I am sure you, of all people, know what that’s like.” Harry caught the grimace that flashed across Moody’s face.

“I do,”

“The Dark Lord said you’d know to leave, but I am supposed to make sure you get out of the castle unseen.” Harry told him and Crouch looked at him blankly.

“This place is a positive fortress right now, Dumbledore has put the entire castle on lockdown. No one is getting in or out until tomorrow in the least.”

“Barty Barty Barty, I know at least four ways out of the castle and grounds which the headmaster doesn't, two of which you can use now." Harry stated, and Crouch looked at him in disbelief.

“How is that possible?”

“Ah, a master never reveals all of his secrets.” Harry said with a smirk, “Now,” He held out his hand, “My map if you will.” Crouch passed over the aging parchment which Harry tucked away out of site for now.

“Now how am I going to leave?”

“You know the weird statue on the fourth floor? The one with the one-eyed witch?” Harry questioned and Crouch nodded.

“Yeah, that thing is odd.”

“Tap its hump with your wand and say ‘dissendium’. The hump will open and lead to a tunnel, you’ll come out in Honeydukes cellar and you can go from there.” Harry explained, “The only problem is that you’ll have to change back in to yourself, you won’t fit as Moody.”

“Really?” The man exclaimed shocked and Harry grinned.

“Yeah, I’ve used it to sneak in to the village more times than I can count.”

“I wish I would have known about that one when I was here.” Crouch sighed and Harry laughed.

“It’s helpful for sure. I didn’t find that one personally, but it’s the easiest to use and access if you have the password.” Harry said to him, “If you go and pack and come back, I can make sure the way is clear when the Polyjuice has worn off.” Harry threw him a glare then, “I got the blame for that, you know. Granted, I could have had concrete proof that it wasn’t me and Snape would have still claimed that it was my doing, but still!”

“There there,” Crouch crooned mockingly and Harry’s eyes narrowed before he huffed and crossed his arms.

“Do you want your wand back any time today?”

“Ok, I’m sorry.” He exclaimed and Harry laughed, he tossed the man back his wand and it was tucked away. “I’ll be back soon.” Crouch turned and clunked away, leaving Harry free to lay back down and curl up. It was a side effect, he figured, of having a cat animagus form, but he wasn’t complaining; it was comfy. He could feel himself drifting in and out of sleep, the warmth making him making his mind foggy and his body deliciously heavy, he wasn’t really focussing on anything or he would have heard the hospital wing doors open and light footsteps coming towards him. But he wasn’t and that was why he was jabbed in the side, he jumped so violently he almost left his bed and the cruciatius curse was the first spell on his tongue.

“Calm down, Potter!” Barty held up his hands in a universal sign of peace, and Harry blinked, lowering his wand cautiously.

“It’s you.”

“Yeah it’s me. I said I would be back!” Barty exclaimed, and then his eyes widened, “Were you just about to Crucio me?” Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Yeah, I really have to stop doing that. I’ve had to dish out more than one Obliviate because of that particular habit.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Barty muttered sarcastically, before grinning, “It’s going to be fun having you around.” Harry snickered.

“Just you wait,” He grabbed his map and activated it, his eyes roaming over the familiar routes of the castle and he smirked. “You’re good to go if you run now. The left hand side on the fourth floor is completely clear, Snape usually prowls that side but he hasn’t come back from his precious dungeons. If you cut through the tapestry of the singing toads you can cut off the entire third floor and it will bring you on to the staircase leading up to the witch. Though, you could wait and walk through the fourth floor itself.”

“No, it’s quicker to go down and up,” Barty said shaking his head, “How’s the entrance hall?”

“Clear, only the ghosts linger there.” Harry said. Crouch nodded and flung on Moody’s invisibility cloak, he waved goodbye and left the room silently. Harry shut off the map and tucked it away, Crouch would get out and he was free to curl back up in to his comfortable ball. He sighed and pulled the covers up over his head and closed his eyes, he needed his sleep and he hoped tomorrow wouldn’t be too terrible.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive response :)  
> Please check the tags!
> 
> #Parseltongue#
> 
> Edited from FF.net - the orignal is still posted there!
> 
> I'm not J.K.
> 
> Un'beta'd!
> 
> Slow updates!

_** Embracing Evil: Series 1 ** _

_** Chapter 2: ** _

 

Harry wasn’t quite sure what he expected to wake up to in the morning, he was kind of expecting to be surrounded by his well-wishers and his supposed friends, but it was blissfully silent, minus Madam Pomfrey’s usual morning rounds of the wing. He did release a groan when he shifted his arm and glaring bright light shone down on to his shut eyes, he wasn’t quite ready to face the world yet, even if he did roll over to find himself completely pain and ache free.

“Good morning, Harry.” Poppy greeted, having that sixth sense to know when her patients, especially Harry, were awake.

“I’m asleep,” He assured her, cracking an eye open to look at her blearily. Poppy chuckled as she began waving her wand in the familiar movements of a diagnostic charm, she smiled slightly and nodded to herself.

“You, as usual, have made a speedy recovery, and should have no lasting marks from last nights’ escapades.” She informed him and Harry smiled, pushing himself in to a sitting position.

“You know me,” He joked and she pursed her lips.

“Unfortunately I do. I know I say this a lot, but you spend far too much time in my wing.” She said and Harry shrugged.

“Half the time it’s not my fault.” Harry pointed out, “And you would hunt me down yourself if I didn’t come and see you as soon as dinner was finished on the first day back.” Pomfrey sighed and smoothed his hair down, a habit of hers and one that Harry was all too fond of.

“I wish you weren’t in a situation that required it.” She said softly. Poppy wasn’t one, usually, to pick favourites, but Harry was one of hers. She couldn’t help it, he was a lovely little one, with the potential to love something or someone with an unrivalled passion, it was just difficult for him to find people worthy of his heart. He had had a tough life and she hated that she couldn’t help him more.

“I know, but its not in my control.” Harry said, “Well, at least it wasn’t. I’m hoping that this summer is going to be better.”

“As long as you are careful and look after yourself, I will not say anything. You’ll come and see me, just like always, after dinner on the first of September.” Poppy said to him and Harry offered her a bright smile.

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Now, if you could summon an elf and have some breakfast, and I mean a whole breakfast, not something you try to pass of as a meal in the Great Hall,” She brandished her wand threateningly and Harry held up his hands in defence, “I may be able to keep you away from the masses until this evening, possibly until tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t say this enough, but you are a complete diamond.” Harry said to her brightly. He called for a house elf and asked for hearty breakfast, the little elf seemed only too happy to bring him his food and as soon as the scent hit his senses, Harry found himself all but wolfing the food down; he was absolutely starving. It was like he hadn’t eaten in days, and then he blinked. He actually hadn’t eaten in days, he had spent the last four days practicing all the magic he could get his hands on and preparing for anything and everything that could have happened once he got in the presence of the Dark Lord.

A lot had happened and now it was settling in his mind he was rather stunned to realise _exactly_ what had happened. He had joined the Dark Lord. He was an official Death Eater. He was no longer bolted to the so called light side, he was no longer chained to Dumbledore and his lackeys, he was free. He finally had some freedom, he was doing something he wanted to do, not something asked or expected of him; this was 100% his choice. He smiled to himself, it was like a weight had been lifted from him. He knew that he would be facing many trials in the future, but it would be trials that he had chosen to put himself through with this one decision.

Harry knew that he also had many questions to answer when he next saw the Dark Lord, the man wasn’t one to let something slide without knowing exactly what was going on, and if Harry had read the man’s tone correctly, something he didn’t doubt, the man wasn’t going to let Harry slip in to the crowd. He didn’t know exactly why the man was possessive of him, it wasn’t something he had ever experienced before, but he believed it couldn’t be anything detrimental to his being. After all, didn’t people like to keep their possessions close to them? Harry shook his head, that wasn’t going to help him at the moment, he called for another elf and asked for his bag from the Gryffindor tower. He might as well get some reading done and then he was going back to sleep, he liked coming to the hospital wing if only for the peaceful and undisturbed sleep he got when he was there. Poppy wouldn’t let anyone bother him, he knew the wards she kept on her wing and no one would be entering or leaving without her knowing.

It was why all of his escape attempts always failed; the sneaky woman knew the moment he left his bed. It was his many stays in the hospital wing that had made him look in to wards and area charms, he knew that the castle was saturated in magic and protections, and he wanted to understand and identify them. He was getting quite good at it now, he knew he had loads to learn, but if he sat and focussed he could usually identify the layers of the wards in the room he was in, and sometimes he needed only to pass through them to know what they were intending to do. Harry had found that, because of his training, it had left him more sensitive to magic, and it had taken him a while to get used to being able to feel a spell as it came towards him. He was currently reading a book on Arithmancy, it was a highly difficult subject, and he regretted that he wasn’t able to take it as a class, but he thought he had grasped the basic understanding, and he was hoping that, one day, he would be able to make a spell or two.

It was only a small book, and once he had finished the book Madam Pomfrey informed him that he should eat a small lunch before continuing his reading. He followed her instructions and began a book on auror stealth and camouflage, he had found the book in the Room of Requirement, Harry had found that the Room of Hidden Things was an absolute treasure trove for things that one would normally have difficulty getting. He loved it in there. Every time he would think he could find nothing else more interesting he would stumble across something else, he had come to believe that he would never run out of things that would interest him. He had found a trunk of ancient robes, kept in perfect condition thanks to a very powerful preservation charm, as well as leather bound books on subjects he didn’t have a hope of understanding yet – some weren’t even in English.

Harry ate his dinner absently, and he allowed Poppy to run another medical scan on him, she had, after all, been keeping people away from him all day when she didn’t have to, so it was the least he could do. And when Harry curled up that evening he couldn’t help but believe that it would be the last relaxing day he would have for a long time.

 

* * *

It took two days before Harry was considering breaking his arm and vanishing the bones just so he could return to the sanctuary of the hospital wing. Returning to everyday school life was a whole lot more difficult than he thought it would be and it was driving him insane. He had to keep his acting skills up to the height of his ability, his ‘friends’ were repeatedly asking him if he was ok or if he wanted to talk about it, and others would trail him hoping to find out something about the shocking night of the final task. Harry pretended to be down about it, keeping his head lowered and flinching whenever it was mentioned. He also kept to his amnesia story, deflecting questions with shuddering breaths and a shake of his head, stating he couldn’t remember and didn’t want to.

He couldn’t believe how much he used to hate the hospital wing, he used to hate being stuck in the bed and not being able to be around the castle but now it seemed to be his solace. Madam Pomfrey would keep everyone away from him, and that is exactly what he desired, but he also knew that he was expected to stick it out. He was Harry Potter, after all and he had an image to keep. That image was the very reason he was “friends” with Ron and Hermione in the first place, Harry Potter – the Boy-Who-Lived, saviour to the wizarding world, friends with a mudblood outcast and a blood traitor; the perfect little lion.

Harry sneered at the wall, he was sat in one of the hidden archways he had found, it was small, and only due to his undersized stature was he able to tuck himself up in to the gap. The arch was heavily shadowed too, so it allowed him to hide, even when people walked past him. He closed his eyes and relished in the peace and solidarity, he had one day left until he was free and clear of Dumbledore and his following. They all worshiped the ground the old man walked on, believing the sun rose merely to match his wishes. No one ever questioned Dumbledore, why would they? And Harry hated it. He hated that the man was able to whatever he pleased whenever he pleased, and it didn’t matter the consequences.

The Headmaster was a manipulative bastard after his next fix of power, and he saw Harry as that ticket, but the teen wasn’t inclined to agree. Harry understood doing things for their own gain, hell, he did it himself, but he hated Dumbledore because the man’s actions gave him a life of hatred and abuse; he could never be himself. What gave Dumbledore the right to dictate his placement? Numerous wizarding families would have taken him as he was the “saviour”, but yet he was thrown with magic hating muggles; he was no one’s saviour. He worked for and relied on himself, and that was all that mattered. Of course, with the wizarding world’s ability to switch it’s opinion at the drop of a hat, Harry had to work around that. You didn’t survive the Durselys and not know how to read and manipulate the people around you.

He was supposed to be a saviour so he built up the image of the saviour everyone wanted, but it was getting harder to hide. Year after year of intense training left its mark, his glamour charms were used to hide more than his looks but he couldn’t quite hide his aura, which was saturated in the taint of dark magic. Those who had experience at sensing and feeling magics would soon recognise where the magic was coming from and how strong it was, and the main person who was likely to do that was Snape. Harry felt his lip curl at the mere thought of the greasy bastard, how he hated the man with a passion that rivalled many. Snape would sense dark magic in a heartbeat, Harry attended classes with him and his only saving grace was that the class was with the Slytherins, who, thankfully, came from dark and neutral familys so they were surrounded by dark magic all the time. He would have feared over Dumbledore, but he never spent enough time around the old man for him to pick up on it, and if he did it could be put down to residue from other students.

Hopefully he would find something that would work as a mask for his aura, or Snape could have a little accident; he was leaning towards the latter if he was honest. He needed to work off some stress, it would enable him to keep his cool and to make sure his skills were honed for the summer. Harry opened up the map and groaned when he saw Ron and Hermione moving through the corridors, it meant they were looking for him and he had to get to his training room before they caught up with him. He slithered out of his archway and moved swiftly down the corridor slipping through a hidden tapestry and jumping through what looked to be a solid wall, he jogged down the pitch black passage way, not bothering to light his wand because he knew the passage well.

Harry made the mistake of not checking the map as he stepped out of the wall and paid for the oversight, he walked out and landed in front of a group of Slytherins, Malfoy and his little group at the head. He was able to clear and hide the map before they got over their shock at his sudden appearance.

“Potter, what are you doing here?” Malfoy demanded and Harry mentally sighed, did he really have to deal with this now?

“Walking, Malfoy. Is that a crime now?” Harry snapped, the expected Gryffindor remark flowing from his mouth almost unconsciously. They glowered at him and he watched as Pansy Parkinson flicked her hair unnecessarily over her shoulder as she geared up to speak, it was all he could do to not roll his eyes and flick her in the nose like a bad dog.

“Why would a mangy lion come walking in the dungeons?” She sneered and Harry took a moment to wonder if her voice was worse than Grangers, they both had a grating quality that Harry could really do without.

“I felt like it.” Harry stated shortly, “Do you have a problem with that?”

“This is our territory.” Malfoy spat and Harry couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up even when he tried.

“Dear Merlin, I have not got the patience to deal with this today.” He sighed, shaking his head. He stepped backwards through the wall and hissed “lock” in parsel, smirking when he felt the brick go solid. Harry walked back up the passage, this time making sure to double check the map before leaving and walking down the corridor. He smirked when he saw his “friends” back in the tower and moved towards the second floor, casting a tempus to note that he had four hours before he would be expected at dinner. Making sure the corridor was completely empty before he moved, Harry went to the girl’s bathroom and entered the Chamber of Secrets.

He had come back down to the chamber before he had left in second year to explore, after all, it was a huge area in which he was the only person alive that could access; it was the perfect hideout. Of course, it looked completely different now to what it did back then, he, with the help of some house elves, cleaned and restored to its former glory. During his explorations, Harry had found Slytherin’s library, study, potions lab, training room and hidden quarters, and it had given him the means to truly learn everything. Harry had made it his mission to read through the library and he was nearly there, he had discovered so much more about magic and it had brought forward the need to learn all of these new things. The spells came easily to him and he had made sure to master all of them once he had begun learning them, refusing to give up even when the spells were difficult and only moving on when he could do it both wandlessly and wordlessly.

His first actual challenge was becoming an animagus. Harry had read, in the normal books, that it was impossible to have multiple animal forms and that it was remarkably difficult to find your form. According to Salazar, that was incorrect. The Slytherin Lord had noted that it was possible to gain a form to match each of the elements, though those who have affinities with certain elements would be able to gain a form to match much easier. Harry had first gained his animagus form that matched his affinity to air, he was a Knight Raven, a counterpart to the phoenix, and held almost the same abilities. His tears could heal and he could carry great weights, but instead of moving through the flames he moved through smoke and shadows, which Harry had managed to incorporate in to his human movement.

He also gained the ability to self-heal, sometimes it was instantaneous and other times he needed a night’s rest before he was back to normal, but it made living with the Dursleys and acting like the saviour Gryffindor much easier. The other things he gained were that his talons were poisonous and if he was feeling particularly vicious he could make his tears acidic. The second form that he found was a slight surprise to him, but one that was very welcome; he found his earth form; a black panther. Harry loved running through the forest and the school in that form, he was able to climb trees and hide in the shadows and it enhanced his senses, something which carried over to when he was human. He had started to search for his fire form but he had been distracted by something much more interesting.

Deep within the depths of the Slytherin library were books on a magic that was created by the founder himself; Parsel magic. It was absolutely fascinating. It had its own collection of Runes, its own spells and wards, and even magical forms! With the books of Parsel magic, it occurred to Harry that it was possible to write in Parsel as well as speak and so he had started to learn that; it would help him if he was ever making notes and didn’t want anyone else to see them. It was extremely difficult, especially when he looked at Parsel text for more than a few seconds it appeared as English, so it took him a while before he could write out the alphabet in both upper and lower case. Once he had that mastered he had moved on to actual sentences and built himself up from there, even now he still struggled but it was getting easier each time he wrote something so he had hope.

The magical form that Parsel magic held was something like an element form for an animagus, Salazar described it to be a sprit form and of course it usually took the form of a snake, though Salazar did note that there had been a few spider forms that cropped up. He had to go through a ritual to access his form and Harry had been pleased when he finally managed to access his spirit. He took the form of Fer-De Lance, a venomous pit viper (Bothrops Asper) and Harry found it oddly fitting that it was described as being excitable and unpredictable. He wasn’t fully grown yet, so he was only around four ft long and two inches thick, but he knew he had around two foot of growth to come. There was a slight problem with the spirit form, one that Salazar had made plenty of notes about because of its severity. If Harry lost control of his emotions he could partially transform and his instincts could take over, his mind would become more snake-like and his actions would reflect that.

It had happened only once.

He was at the Dursleys and it had only been mere weeks after he had accepted his spirit and mastered the transformation, he had been backed in to a corner and it was only through sheer force of will did he break away and get to the bathroom before he lost all rational thought and lunged at Vernon. His instincts were screaming for him to attack and to kill the threat, but the human in his told him that he would be unable to explain his death without implicating himself and he would be locked up so he got out of there. He caught sight of his reflection and that was what got him to calm down, his face had hollowed out and tinged grey, he had venom slicked fangs curling from his mouth and his eyes had turned a livid avada green with slits for pupils; it had shocked the rational thought back in to him.

It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. That incident made Harry begin studying Occlumency. Salazar explained that in order to control all aspects of your behaviour and magic, one must first master their own mind. He took to meditating whenever he had the time, finding his mindscape and organising all of his memories; even the ones he wished to forget. Only then could he build up barriers to protect his mind. He wouldn’t call himself a master, but he could protect his mind and definitely sense a presence. Harry had created false memories because both Dumbledore and Snape were rather free handed when it came to using Occlumency’s counter, Legilimency, and he also knew how to lead them to the things he wanted them to see; Salazar called it diversion.

The benefits of having Occlumency shields in place was that it enables Harry to recall details quicker and remember things easier, it also helped him filter his emotions so he didn’t get overwhelmed by his anger or frustration. It also helped him with his magic, he learned how to control the amount of power he put in to his spells and it was only then did he dare attempt the unforgivables. The easiest one was the Imperius Curse, he had tried it on dummies and animals and he believed that he would be able to get a human to bend to his will too. Both the Killing and Cruciatus curses were not as difficult as Harry thought they would be, but that could be down to the fact that Harry carried a lot of hate and wanted to kill and hurt a lot of people.

By gaining Occlumency it aided his focus and after he gained the map he began casting his first set of Parsel wards, they were unbreakable lest removed by another speaker and Harry counted himself lucky that there were only two known parselmouths in the country. He put them on all of his belongings to keep them safe, he wouldn’t put it past his relatives and his enemies to try and get at his things. He also made sure everything was fire/water/damage proof just in case Vernon got too brave. Harry had found, quite by accident, using ordinary spells, but have them spoken in Parseltongue gave them a greater power edge while using the same amount of magic. He had stood shell shocked for an entire five minutes at the missing wall before him after he had accidently used a _Reducto_ in Parsel; he had made a note to be particularly careful in which language he spoke.

Harry had absolutely no luck on Parsel Runes, he was barely managed to write in Parsel let alone carve Runes, they were utterly hellish and he nearly blew himself up when he had miss-carved a Rune and decided to leave it at that. Thankfully, his potions grade shot right up, not that it was illustrated in class, even if he did put his full effort in Snape wouldn’t mark him above an A anyway. But it helped that he able to understand the meanings and the reasons behind the different cuts and ingredients, by no means was potions anywhere close to being his best subject but he would ace his OWL and NEWT. He would always be stronger in practical magics. It wasn’t just magic he practiced, he kept his physical fitness up together by doing cardio, a mix of press ups, sit ups and weights and gymnastics. He had practiced knife throwing every now and then too, but he didn’t do that all too much.

Harry went straight for the training room when he entered the Chamber, he took out his wand and frowned, he needed a new one because his affinity had drastically changed and while the core still matched him, the wood was starting to burn out. He also needed to go shopping over the summer, he had, surprisingly enough, started to grow out of his clothes that he had bought last year and he needed a top up; there was only so many times he could get away with wearing broken jeans. He fell in to his poised duelling stance, Harry's stance was unique to him and some would laugh him of as an amateur but it was perfect for him especially as in the chamber he didn’t need his glamour.

He stood with his feet together, left arm bent at the elbow poised out for balance and his right bent the same way but palm up wand held almost lazily between hit index and middle fingers, as soon as the target dummies activated Harry struck like the viper he was. His movements were sharp, precise and deadly. Harry moved all around the podium and didn’t raise a shield, preferring to dodge than waste the magic, he relished in the release it gave him and his magic gradually got darker until the unforgivables were spewing out in links, and when the final dummy was down Harry grinned savagely. He truly loved magic, and the swirls of magic crackling around him made his skin tingle. He stood, winding down from the buzz he had created, breathing deeply and allowing his magic to settle back down before folding himself on to the floor and sinking in to a meditative trance.

His mindscape was literally a forest, Salazar’s book had said create something to protect your memories rather than a solid wall so Harry had based his on the dark forest. There were plenty of tricks and traps set before anyone could actually get to the memories and thoughts and then there were fake thoughts made to throw them off. It was good to check up on everything and he walked in to the heart of the forest where there were a ring of trees, each branded with the what they held, the trees were like filing cabinets but the writing was in parcel so the only person who had a hope of knowing what was what was in what. Harry ordered his latest memories and thickened the fog surrounding the haunting trees, when he pulled out it had been over an hour and a half so he cleansed his wand and left the chamber.

Harry made sure to cast a cleaning charm on himself before leaving the bathroom and heading towards the Great Hall, his glamour was in place and he slumped his posture as he moves as not to raise suspicion. He sat at the end of the Gryffindor table and nobody bothered him at first, but then Ron and Hermione entered the hall and rushed over to him and sat down.

“Harry! Where have you been?” Hermione demanded, “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Harry had to force himself not to roll his eyes at her tone of voice, she wasn’t his keeper and he could go where he wanted to.

“I was wandering around the castle, you know how much I like to do that, Hermione.” Harry answered instead.

“Why have you been avoiding us then? We are your best friends and you haven’t told us anything that happened, and you keep disappearing.” She questioned and Harry took a deep breath so he didn’t forcefully remove her tongue from her skull, the need to curse everything in sight was slowly returning and Harry marvelled at Hermione’s ability to piss him off that much.

“I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been trying to figure everything out.” Harry told her, his tone of voice illustrated how impressed he was with the conversation. “How am I supposed to tell you something if I don’t know the answer myself? Madam Pomfrey said that peace and calm may help me, but there is a strong possibility that the memories will never return because it was such a traumatic experience. So I am sorry if I am not fulfilling your expectations and complying with your every whim, but this time I need to sort myself out first.”

They both looked shocked at his tirade but it was true, if he had actually been through an experience that he was acting like then their incessant demands and questions were not going to help him; they were so selfish. He got up and left the hall, food was something he could get elsewhere and it got him out of their company for now. It didn’t help that he was going to be going back to his own personal hell hole the day after tomorrow, granted it was only going to be for a week, but with Vernon anything could happen in a week. Harry slipped through a handy short cut that took him up to the fifth floor but he walked in to two identical chests and fell to the ground.

“Alright there, Harry?”

“We’ve often found its best if you walk around the person.”

“Not attempt to walk through them.”

Harry grinned up at the Weasley twins. These two were on the shockingly small list of people he actually liked, they were smart, funny and actually saw him as a human being and not as someone to boost their own agenda.

“Ah Gred, Forge, just the people I like to see.” He greeted brightly and they looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Take a seat, I have a proposition for you that will benefit us both.” He patted the ground next to him, a sudden idea coming to his mind. They folded themselves on to the floor looking both curious and eager at the same time.

“Speak, oh mighty Boy-Who-Lived.” They chorused and Harry offered them a dark look, to which they grinned.

“Do you still want to open a joke shop?” He asked them and they looked at him as if he was stupid.

“Of course we do-,”

“What else?” they exclaimed and Harry laughed.

“I thought as much.” Harry mused, “How would you like it if I wanted to let’s say _invest._ ” Both their eyes lit up and Harry smirked.

“We’re listening!”

“We would have to do all this all properly, of course. We’d get a contract drawn up and I’ll provide the start up to get WWW of the ground.” Harry explained, “I’d also invest where it would be needed and take a percentage back.”

“How much are you thinking for a start up?” George asked, his eyes, like his twins, were shining with an almost unholy glee.

“I’m thinking 1000 galleons.” He decided after a moment and they gaped at him.

“You cannot be serious?” they gasped.

“Nope, he’s my Godfather I am told.” He quipped and then grinned at the glare he got for his efforts. He looked at them seriously and tilted his head. “Listen guys, you have never treated me any different and you have always been decent to me, even when the masses thought I was some deranged manic, or a lying cheater and you really don’t know how much that actually means to me. I know you’re different and that you keep secrets, you know I’m different and keep my own secrets and you stay silent, and for that I’m grateful. Because of that, I know that you actually like me – for me.”

“Of course,” They said, their expression oddly serious.

“You’re a nice guy really,” George said.

“And sure there is a lot hidden,”

“But we still like you.” They finished and Harry smiled slightly.

“Then you can know that 1000 galleons is nothing to me. I have full control of the Potter fortune, and the vault you have seen is merely a trust vault.” Harry said, “Then you take in to account that I’m the sole heir to the Black fortune.”

“So you can definitely afford it.” Fred said somewhat faintly.

“We’ll draw up a contract and get back to you.” George added in the same tone.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you.” Harry said cheerfully. He pulled himself up and shook their enthusiastic hands before heading back up to the tower, he didn’t linger in the common room, going straight up to the dorms and falling in to bed. He carefully sealed his hangings and removed his glamour when he was sure that he was safe, flopping back against his pillows and finally submerging in to the lands of dreams.

 

* * *

 

He had made it. With the use of the map, the cloak, the twins, and conveniently ‘passing out’ and having to be taken to see Madam Pomfrey, who was highly amused at his appearance and kept him in the wing for a number of hours for ‘observation’. He had finally made it to the leaving feast. Harry, of course, hadn’t actually needed to be in the hospital wing, in actual fact, Harry had spent the few hours learning a few helpful healing spells, and some which were more advanced that worked on scaring and skin growth.

It had been very informative, and it enabled him to expand his knowledge of magic even more, not that he needed it all that much; he healed on his own anyway. The hall was packed when he finally slipped in to the hall, so much so that he could only grab a seat at the end of the table with the twins – who snuck in minutes after him. Instead of the usual winning house colours decorating the room, the Great Hall was decked out in black to show signs of mourning, and instead of the usual loud chatter and excitement, the hall was almost silent. It was a sombre mood in the entire hall and Harry kept his head down looking the part as Dumbledore rose to speak.

“Another year has passed and yet we do not finish with our usual celebrations.” He began, his voice calm and even, “Today we mourn the loss of life of someone dear to us; Cedric Diggory.” If anything the general mood declined even more, there was not a single dry eye within the badgers and Harry wasn’t surprised; Cedric was apparently popular with nearly everyone. That was reflected by the wail of despair that came from the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was sobbing her heart out in to one of her friend’s chests, and there were many at the Raven’s table highly upset. There were fewer people upset at the Gryffindor table but there were a few that looked exceptionally down. As per usual, the Slytherin table didn’t look affected in the slightest, they kept their masks up as to not show weakness.

“I hope each of you has an enjoyable summer despite the bleak outlook right now.” Dumbledore told them all. “Don’t remember Cedric’s death, remember the happier times.” Dumbledore raised his goblet, “To Cedric.” His toast was repeated throughout the hall before the leaving feast began. Harry ate silently, choosing to focus on what would be happening tomorrow rather than what was happening right then. He hadn’t been bothered at all by his friends since that afternoon, Dumbledore had informed him that, due to the trauma he had suffered at the events of the third task, he would have to remain at his relatives for the entire summer as it could help with the memories to be away from magic.

Harry was in two minds about his decision. First, he was absolutely ecstatic. Dumbledore had freed him up to do as he pleased for the summer and it left him able to go to the Dark Lord without having to think of an excuse to where he was. On the other hand, Dumbledore knew exactly what his relatives were like and Harry couldn’t help but think the man was planning something, and it was in retaliation to Harry’s lack of given information. He didn’t know what to expect but he had a very high doubt that it was anything good. The twins drew him to conversation about the contract and they bounced around a few ideas on their up and coming projects, he was amazed at the depth of their imaginations; it was astounding.

He followed them up to the common room, laughing at their continuously wacky ideas and hoping that some of them were actually put in to action. It was the last night in the castle and, as per usual, everyone seemed to be in a mad rush to collect all of their belongings and make sure everything was packed ready to leave in the morning. Harry still had many things to pack else he look out of place with the rest of the room, but first he grabbed some parchment and a quill and scribbled a quick note to the Dark Lord informing him of Dumbledore’s sudden decision, he also reminded him of the blood wards that supposedly surrounded his house as a precaution. His beloved owl was only too happy to take his letter and gave him a look of concern when he told her to stay at the manor and wait for him there.

“I know, girl.” He murmured, stroking her white feathers softly, “But it should only be a week, and if Tom seems like he’s forgetting then you can remind him for me.” She hooted her confirmation and launched herself in to the air after one last nip. Harry sighed as he looked around at the mess of his things, somehow they were scattered everywhere and he was sure that he wasn’t the one responsible for it. He knew he would be cleaning when he returned to their house and he really didn’t to do it now.

“Dobby?” He called uncertainly, and then he shook his head at his uncertain behaviour because the excitable house elf popped in practically bouncing in anticipation.

“Mister Harry Potter is calling for Dobby sir.” He squeaked and Harry grinned.

“Hey Dobby, it’s good to see you.” He said to the elf, who beamed up at him. “I was wondering if you could do me a favour?”

“Anything for you, sir.”

“I need a little help packing and securing my things for the summer.” Harry said and Dobby looked only too happy to help. The elf happily started snapping his fingers to magic everything away, Dobby had everything folded, stacked and packed within minutes and Harry blinked around in amazement.

“Wow, thanks,”

“Yous is welcome, sir. Is there being anything else?”

“Not right now,” Harry said, “But if I called you, would you come?”

“Oh yes, sir. Dobby is always listening for Mister Harry Potter’s call, sir.” He said, nodding his head vigorously and Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Dobby.”

The little elf bowed and popped away. Harry smiled happily and jumped on his bed, that was an unpleasant task out of the way and he sealed his curtains to go to bed. He couldn’t help but think of the possessive red eyes and the way that they made him feel; for the first time ever he was looking forward to the summer.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, he was exceptionally glad of the profile he had built up around himself over the past four years. Ron and Hermione didn’t bother or question him as he was quiet in the carriages down to the train, they put it down to Dumbledore imprisoning him at the Dursleys for the summer; it was an open secret how much he hated it there. Though, to make sure they didn’t get to ‘worried’ he made an effort to talk to them when they were boarding the train and leaving the Hogsmead station. He agreed to a game of exploding snap with Ron and Ginny, who had decided to join them, whilst Hermione stuck her head in a book.

“I don’t know what Dumbledore is thinking making you stay with the muggles all summer.” Ron said shaking his head, “Its horrible.”

“Yeah, I know.” Harry agreed with a sigh, slumping back as if he felt hopeless.

“There has to be something done to get you to the Burrow.” Ron stated and Harry shrugged.

“Professor Dumbledore knows exactly what he is doing and if he believes that it is best for Harry to stay with his family for the holidays, then clearly it is.” Hermione informed them all primly, her unwavering love for authority shining through. Harry found it hard not to strangle her at certain times, how she became so uptight and hung up on authority he would never know. Maybe she had an odd upbringing? Harry couldn’t exactly offer a fair input, he grew up in a cupboard, but he still didn’t like her.

“I guess you’re right.” Ron agreed reluctantly, and Harry nearly rolled his eyes; attack of the sheeple.

“Hmph,” She huffed at the ‘guess’ in his sentence and Harry actually did roll his eyes at that, her and her superiority complex. He bought the usual collection of sweets from the trolley for them all to eat, laughing and joking with them while mentally sneering and planning how he was remove each of his problems. He knew it probably wasn’t healthy for his blood lust but he didn’t actually act on it, sort of. The odd muggle didn’t count, did it? It was with mixed feelings that he started recognising the surroundings, he wanted to get away from his shadows but he didn’t want to go anywhere near his ‘family’.

“Come on, Harry.” Hermione said with a touch of impatience, “You have to change right now because we are nearly there.” Harry bit his tongue so he didn’t snap at her, instead he pulled out his old hand-me-downs from his trunk to change and went to the bathroom. He slipped his wand in to his waistband, even if he couldn’t use it he wanted it on him for reassurance if not for anything else. He ran in to Fred and George on the way back and they tugged him in to their compartment, an official document appearing in front of him before he could even blink. Harry looked it through and grinned, it would give him thirty three percent of the company Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and was entitled to submit ideas and receive samples of everything created within the company.

“Gentlemen, it will be a pleasure doing business with you.” Harry said with pleasure, signing the contract without hesitation. The contract flashed and copied itself in to three, one vanished, no doubt in to Gringotts, and the other two were picked up by Harry and the twins. Harry waves his wand and performed a switching spell, sending his contract to his trunk and summoning his prize money to himself, handing it over to the twins with a grin.

“Do have fun.” He said and their grins became marginally deranged.

“Don’t worry. We will.” They chimed and, had Harry not been their partner, he would feel quite scared. The look in their eyes, it didn’t bode well for the population.

“Oh, and, just for now, I’m a silent partner, yeah?”

“We got it.” They agreed in uniform and Harry left with a parting wave. He entered his compartment again just as the train was pulling in, he sighed to himself and tugged down his trunk before exiting the train. Harry managed to deal with the usual Weasley smothering before stepping away with a reassuring smile and a nod to his friends, he managed to drop his glamour without anyone realising as he crossed the barrier in to the muggle world. It wasn’t difficult to spot his uncle even in the bustling crowd, the man what a humanised whale that had learned to survive out of the water.

He took a moment to observe his uncle and he shivered at what he saw; this was bad. Vernon had obviously been drinking already, his alcohol consumption was never good but for him to be doing it at this time a day was especially worrying. The whale was angry anyway, but a drunk Vernon was an enraged Vernon so Harry mentally prepared himself for some serious pain, focusing his mind what he would do when he could finally remove their taint from the world. Harry took a brief moment to wonder exactly what the Dark Lord was going to make of this situation when he realised the extent of the situation Harry was in, he had the distinct impression that the Dark Lord didn’t like others punishing his minions and Harry didn’t know if he fell in to the category of minion or future possession. Either way, he had a feeling he probably should have told the man what went on behind closed doors. Oh well, it was a bit late now. What was a week?

Harry tried to think positive and all that but when he could actually feel the fury and saw Vernon’s beady little eyes land on him and light up with malicious glee, he felt that he had a very strong reason to be concerned for his future health. Vernon didn’t make a comment as he turned and made his way back to the car, further worrying Harry as the man always had something to say when he saw him. The car journey was utterly silent, Vernon didn’t grumble that Harry took a while to get his trunk in car, or the fact that they were caught in traffic due to him having to come and pick him up, the man didn’t even make a degrading comment about a group of bikers that revved passed the car at high speeds. Harry was beyond tense when he climbed out of the car and pulled his trunk towards the house, he didn’t know what to expect but he didn’t expect the blinding pain that erupted in the back of his head as something collided with his skull sending him crashing to the floor with a dull thump.

His vision swam before him and his hearing suddenly sounded like he was under water, his limbs were heavy and he was extremely disorientated. He yelped when he felt a meaty hand grab his hair, bodily drag him over and threw him in to the cupboard under the stairs, Harry collapsed like a dead weight as the door slammed shut behind him. He groaned in pain, trying to focus enough to get the small, cramped space not to spin anymore so he could sit up. Harry made sure to move slowly as not to make his head throb, he gently reached up to feel his hair and grimaced and the sticky feeling issuing from the wound. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, using Occlumency to push the pain away and settle himself. His eyes snapped open when he felt the new magic surrounding the house, it was Dumbledore and Harry swore viciously when he sensed out exactly what wards were now in place.

The man, for some reason, had added a magical dampening ward and paired it with a magic sensory ward keyed in to himself, meaning even wandless and elf magic would be picked up by him straight away. Harry could only assume it was because of his ‘accidental’ magic. This wasn’t good. The magical dampeners squashed his healing abilities as well as some of his wandless abilities, and the sensors made sure that any attempts at magic would be suicide. Harry's dead dropped in to his hands, a blinding headache making it hard for him to think, but one thing was very clear; he was so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's been a while so I'm sorry for that.
> 
> Revised from FF.Net.
> 
> #Parsel#
> 
> Read the tags
> 
> Un'beta'd

_**Embracing Evil: Series 1** _

_**Chapter 3:** _

 

The shriek that was Petunia Dursley’s voice pierced through his mind like a smouldering iron the next morning, Harry groaned as his head gave a nasty throb and his hand reached up to lightly touched the back of his head.

“Get up.” She ordered shrilly, “You need to make breakfast.”

Harry’s arms shook as he pushed himself up and he stumbled out of the cupboard, hissing as the light hit his eyes and they burned.

“Move, boy.” She barked, shoving him towards the kitchen. Harry tripped and caught himself on the counter top, biting his tongue and clenching his fists to stop any reaction coming from him. This was going to be hard. He hated that he had to go through this, it sounded petulant, but it wasn’t fair. He hadn’t even been back for 24 hours and he already had a mild concussion and he didn’t even want to think of what was to come. He moved towards the fridge and pulled out the usual things the Dursleys had for breakfast, due to the fully stocked fridge he assumed that the enforced diet was no longer in place. He threw the entire packet of sausages in the frying pan and began cooking, six eggs and an entire packet of bacon followed the sausages and he began toasting half a loaf of bread. Without thinking, he snagged a piece of toast to eat as he began plating everything up just as Petunia walked back into the room, she started yelling at him and she slapped him right across the face.

“Petunia, dear, what is it?” Vernon called, lumbering into the room.

“The Freak was stealing our food.” She told him and Harry bit back a wince; Vernon went purple and Harry didn’t have time to dodge the fist that came towards his stomach. He went down hard, all the air from his lungs forcefully removed leaving him breathless and gasping, Vernon yanked him back up by his hair and dragged him along to the cupboard under the stairs.

“How dare you steal from us, boy.” He growled, “As if we don’t do enough for you. Stay in there until your aunt needs you.” Harry hit his head again when he was pushed back into the cupboard and curled in on himself, he was good with pain but his head was still throbbing from the concussion and his body was not healing himself at all; it had been a long time since he was in extended amounts of pain. He knew he wouldn’t be locked in here too long, Petunia was too lazy to do things for herself if she didn’t have to and so he wasn’t surprised when the door was flung open and he was ordered out.

“You will have these done before Vernon gets home or you will be in trouble.” Petunia spat, thrusting a sheet of paper harshly into his chest. Harry took it and looked at it in shock, it was a full sheet of A4 paper and he had around eight hours to do it in; this was insane – he couldn’t even use magic!

“Well, Freak, get going.” She pushed him outside and slammed the door. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he could at least attempt to get everything thing done to save himself he supposed. He painted the fence first, he knew it would need a second coat so if he painted it first he could weed garden at the back as it dried. The sun was hot on his back and his head was causing all of his limbs to be so heavy, he kept going, though, knowing there wouldn’t be good consequences otherwise. Harry’s vision was swimming by the time he had finished the second coat of paint and it took all of his effort to put everything back in the shed and walk back to the house. Petunia thrust a glass of water at him which Harry all but inhaled, she tutted at him and pushed him out of the kitchen to get him moving again.

Harry cursed to himself, he had just spotted the time and knew he had absolutely no chance of finishing, he would be forced to start cooking the evening meal in an hour and he still had to tidy the entire house, vacuum, polish, mop the floors, clean the bathroom, sort the garage and cook the food. He started upstairs and it felt like no time at all before Petunia was screeching for him to get back down stairs and start the food, both Dudley and Vernon would be back soon and Harry whimpered as the sound cut through him like glass.

All of his movements were heavy and Petunia kept yelling at him because he kept putting things down loudly, he pushed everything behind his Occlumency shields and focused on everything on each of his movements to stop her damn voice. He was shoved back in the cupboard once everything was ready to plate up and Harry sighed in relief, the darkness welcome and he closed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep because he was violently brought back into the world when his head hit the floor and he was dragged out of the cupboard by his legs.

“You lazy, ungrateful freak!” Vernon yelled, aiming a kick to his ribs. “You were warned, boy.” Harry clenched his teeth as Vernon unleashed his fury on him, he hissed when he heard one of his ribs crack and thanked whatever deity out there that took him into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

Harry knew that one day he was going to make these people burn. They were going to suffer beyond anything they could possibly imagine and only when they were broken shells of the people they were now would he finally allow them to die. Harry did not know what it was, but the week had been one of the longest, most painful weeks of his life. Vernon seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure, more than usual, in beating the crap out of him on a daily basis, and he was drinking more and more. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t treated to Dudley’s tender mercy as well, it seemed the other teen had taken up boxing and was hardly ever around the house. Harry was starting to become significantly worried, his body was not coping with the strain to the beatings as well as the suppression of his magic, he could barely move come Thursday and he prayed he could hold out for just one more day.

He was set to leave tomorrow as long as the Dark Lord kept his word, Harry saw no reason for the man not to and he had a sinking feeling that if the man did then Harry wouldn’t be surviving very much longer unless he got away himself. The problem was, even if he did get collected, he would still be faced with the Dark Lord, one who, Harry got the impression, would be less than pleased given his current state. He wouldn’t be able to heal instantly this time, he would need at least overnight to rest his body and possibly a few potions too. Harry jumped when the front door slammed open and he couldn’t help but gulp, Vernon was already purple and he was flat out drunk.

“BOY!” He roared, stumbling in and slamming the door shut. Harry, in one of the most monumentally stupid moments of his life, froze directly in Vernon’s line of sight. “YOU!” When his senses returned he tried to back away but he wasn’t quick enough and Vernon lunged at him taking them both down and Harry felt the full weight of his uncle land on him. He actually felt at least two of his ribs break and his head struck the ground with force, his vision blacked for a few seconds before he was jolted back when Vernon rolled off and pushed Harry onto his back.

“You’re freakishness is responsible for this!” He shouted, ripping Harry’s pathetic excuse of a t-shirt away from his back. “I was set for a promotion until you came back here.” Harry’s head was swimming and he couldn’t breathe, he could see black around the edges of his vision and it was only when a white hot pain licked at his spine did it fade. He couldn’t help but cry out when the same burn struck him again.

“Don’t you make a sound boy!” Vernon growled, “This is nothing more than you deserve, you worthless freak.” He was struck again and Harry realised it was with a belt, he bit his lip to stop any sounds escaping him as Vernon continued to whip him. It was more painful than he could have imagined and even worse when a lashing hit another. He felt a trail of blood run down his back when Vernon finally gave up but he couldn’t stop the whimper coming out when he was dragged backwards along the floor to the cupboard, the floor pulling on his open wounds and making them sear angrily.

He was kicked into the cupboard pushing the air from his lungs and making him choke, the door was bolted shut and Harry managed to roll onto his front and breath normally again. This was so bad. He needed to get out of the house, there was no other way. If he had full access to his magic he would have been fine, his would have healed every night and he his magic would have kept him sustained. He just had to hope the Dark Lord would keep his word.

 

* * *

 

Vernon woke him up with a punch to the jaw and a meaty finger digging into his already abused ribs.

“You better not mess anything up today, freak.” Vernon warned, “If you even think about leaving this cupboard you’ll never see the light of day again.” Before slamming the door and stomping off to work, Harry was more than willing not to move for a while so he shut his eyes and went back to sleep. He didn’t wake up until there was a loud banging on the front door and Vernon yelling at inconsiderate people knocking at such a time, Harry couldn’t hear who it was but his heart skipped a beat when he heard Vernon shout;

“There is no Harry Potter here.”

Harry, forgetting the previous day sat up quickly causing his back to flame, his ribs seared and his head to swim, he bit his hand to stop his outright scream of pain and took a few deep breaths to control himself. The argument from the front door had moved into the hall and Harry could hear Barty Crouch Jr right outside the cupboard, Harry mentally thanked Merlin at the man’s arrival and then froze when he heard:

“I know Potter is lives here so tell me where he is before I curse you.”

If Crouch used magic he was screwed more than he currently was, Dumbledore would be alerted instantly. Thankfully, his miniature panic had been for nothing because as soon as Vernon heard the threat of magic he squeaked and ran away as fast as he could. He heard Barty mutter a few impressive curse words and finally allowed himself to smile, he tapped on the door and chuckled when Barty jumped.

“Who’s there?” He demanded and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Unlock the damn cupboard door and get me out of here.” Harry told him. The latch was slid across and the door opened, he hissed when the light hit him abruptly and he heard Crouch gasp. Harry guessed he didn’t look the best of himself right now, and he wasn’t all that sure if he was able to actually move.

“What in Merlin’s name happened to you?” Crouch whispered horrified. “The Dark Lord only said you were forced to live with muggles.”

“Yeah, well, I might have left out a few details to how much the muggles enjoy my yearly company.” Harry muttered and Crouch made a sound between a laugh and a choke. “A little help?” Barty crouched down and helped him out of the cupboard, Harry yelped when his ribs moved under his skin and his back was pulled apart, he felt the blood run down his back and he didn’t need to be looking at Barty to know the man was looking at him in horror.

“You are bleeding,”

“I know,” Harry said, making his way to the kitchen unsteadily. He caught sight of his reflection in the gleaming the countertops and grimaced, he looked like utter hell and felt like it too. He stumbled, catching himself in the counter, only to drop to the ground and land heavily when he knocked his ribs again.

“Oh he is going to be pissed.” Barty breathed, “I need to get you back immediately.” Harry was barely listening to him however, the blind pain running through him, plus the blood loss and the lack of food and water was finally becoming too much.

“Get me out of this house.” He gasped, “No magic, Dumbledore has wards up. My stuff is in the garage.” While Barty darted out of the room, Harry crawled back to the cupboard and fished out his wand, he pulled himself to his feet and made his way to the door. Barty met him on the way, dragging his trunk and puffing at the weight.

“Where do the wards end?” Barty asked.

“Just in front of the garden wall.” Harry answered. Barty pulled the trunk out and shrunk it down as soon as he was free of the wards, he came back to help Harry out of the house and as soon as they passed the wards Harry felt his magic swarm around him and he gasped.

“You are probably not going to like this.” Barty warned, “Hold my arm.” Harry took his arm and was suddenly overcome with a compressing feeling. It didn’t last more than a few seconds but with was enough for him to retch when the feeling vanished as suddenly as it came.

“That was truly disgusting.” Harry stated and Barty chuckled a little before sobering up.

“I need to get you settled before the Dark Lord arrives, we are going to need a healer.”

“Barty, don’t say anything about this.” Harry pleaded and the Death Eater looked at him as if he was insane.

“I will have to. I cannot lie to him, and you need a healer.”

“If he asks about me, just say that I would like to talk to him personally and I’ll deal with it. We both know he’s not going to be happy that I didn’t tell him the truth, its best if I deal with entire situation.” Harry said and Barty sighed but nodded.

“If I get cursed it is on you.” He muttered with a grimace, “Let’s go, he’ll want to see you straight away. You’ve definitely caught his attention.”

Harry didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing given the circumstances and slowly followed Barty up through the manor, it was a very nice building, earthy colours seemed to be the basis, with green being the more prominent colour. They finally came to a stop outside a set of double doors, Barty didn’t move so Harry gave him a questioning look.

“I am not allowed in there. It is the Dark Lord’s personal chambers, but he instructed for you to be brought there to rest and eat if you so required.” He explained and Harry blinked. So, he was definitely different to the other Death Eaters, if Barty, who was very high up on the Death Eater food chain, wasn’t allowed in the rooms but he was it had to mean something. He pushed open the doors and stepped into the huge room. It was gorgeous. A grand king size bed on the back wall and the decor was greens and black, with dark wood floor and a black rug. On the far side, there was an alcove that led to a sitting area surrounding the fire and there was also a desk which was organised neatly to the side of the sitting area. The first thing Harry needed to do was eat some food, he needed something soft and easy of the stomach and for that he needed:

“Dobby?”

His little elf friend popped in and his big green eyes widened in horror when he caught sight of Harry.

“Oh no, Mister Harry Potter is injured!” He exclaimed, his already high voice going higher.

“I know, I’m working on it, Dobby.” Harry said wearily, “I need something to eat and drink, but I haven’t eaten properly in a week so can you make it something small and light.”

“Right away sir, and Dobby is thinking that maybe Mister Harry Potter Sir should be sitting down and resting.”

“You are right,” Harry agreed, making his way over to the very inviting leather sofa, he would remove the blood later. Dobby vanished for a few seconds before he was back with a bowl fool of soup and two pieces of bread, Harry felt his mouth water and he didn’t even bother with the spoon, he drank the soup down in a few gulps and used the bread to get the rest of it. He felt a little sick afterwards but Harry just stayed still and let his stomach settle, more than a little used to the feeling.

“Is there anything else that Dobby can get you, sir?” the elf asked and Harry shook his head.

“Thank you very much, Dobby, it was lovely. I’m good right now, but now I’m free of the wards I’ll probably be calling you a lot more – if you don’t mind of course.” Harry told him and Dobby beamed.

“Oh no, sir. It is an honour for Dobby to serve Mister Harry Potter.” The elf assured him.

“Brilliant,”

Dobby bowed and popped away, taking the empty plates away with him and leaving Harry alone. The teen rose to his feet and walked towards the wardrobe next to, what he guessed was, the bathroom, he sent a silent apology to the Dark Lord as he snatched out a pair of plain black pyjama bottoms and went through the door. Luck was on his side because it _was_ a bathroom and Harry let out a sigh of relief, it was simple, with a large walk in shower, a Jacuzzi like bath and a large mirror. There was a small archway that led to a toilet and a sink, out of the way of the rest of the room and Harry smiled.

He pulled off his dirty, bloody clothes and burned them, he needed to go shopping but he could live for now. He turned the shower on and stepped under the hot water, hissing as his back stung. Blood ran down the plug as the water cleaned his wounds but he paid it no mind as he washed his matted hair, the shampoo stung at the wound on his head but he persevered until most of the blood was out of his hair.

Thankfully, there were no open wounds on his front, which allowed him to wash himself thoroughly and he made note to wash his back when he was healed tomorrow. When he felt he was clean enough he stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel, he was grateful that they were black towels because he didn’t want to see the blood that his back produced. Slipping on the pyjama bottoms he glowered at the extra length, it wasn’t his fault he was tiny! He walked slowly over to the mirror, careful of his ribs and looked himself over.

He looked like hell. His jaw and cheek were bruised and swelled slightly, but what caught his attention was the layers of bruising covering his torso and when he touched it lightly it throbbed. Harry muttered a string of curses when he realised that there was absolutely no hiding this, his back was shredded and his front looked like he had been hit by something heavy, something that wasn’t all together untrue; Vernon did land on him after all.

“Well, there is absolutely no hiding this from him.” He stated out loud to the empty room, his voice deceptively bright.

“Exactly what are you trying to hide?” Came a cool voice from the doorway and Harry stilled. The potent magic belonging to the Dark Lord washed over him and Harry breathed in the delicious taste before focussing on the situation at hand. The Dark Lord was obviously waiting for an answer and Harry had to find one to give, luckily the man couldn’t see the mirror or he would see quite clearly what Harry was trying to hide.

“I was not expecting you to be here so soon.” Harry said in a would-be-calm voice, only it came out a little higher than normal; he blamed it on the terrible week he had been having.

“When Barty informed me that you wished to speak to me personally about something, and then would not give me a straight answer when I inquired over the success of your collection, I saw fit to come as soon as possible.” The Dark Lord replied and Harry swallowed.

“Yes. About that…” He began slowly.

“What were you trying to hide, Harry?” it was phrased as a question but was a blatant demand and Harry took a deep breath.

“Remember when I mentioned that I had the misfortune to staying with muggles.” Harry prompted.

“Yes,”

“I may have omitted a few minor details.” Harry told him and he felt the magic in the air change around him.

“Just how many ‘minor details’?”

“Well,” Harry said brightly, deciding to act as if he was removing a plaster and just getting it over with. He stepped out from where the mirror was and walked so he was in sight of the doorway and, consequently, the Dark Lord. Harry stopped in shock at what he saw. Over the past two weeks, the Dark Lord had changed a lot. His unique, snake-like appearance was gone, and in its place was a man: A highly attractive man, who was very tall, silky dark hair that was slightly wavy but styled perfectly away from his face. His skin was still pale, though not as pale as previously, his cheek boned were high and his features sharp, and he now had a perfectly straight nose that held an ever so slight upturn at the end. The only thing that had not changed was his eyes, still livid crimson and burning with power, and right now they were flashing dangerously as they took in Harry’s current state.

“I’m still alive at any rate.” Harry offered weakly but if anything that made things worse, a low hiss came from the Dark Lord and Harry swore he saw the man’s skin start to tinge grey.

“A few _minor_ details.” He repeated viciously and Harry cringed.

“I did say they were unpleasant.” Harry tried but he was rewarded with a glare for his efforts, “I’ll be alright, I’m just in a bit of pain right now.” He turned around to grab his towel and then stilled when he heard the man suck in a sharp breath. “Oh no,” he whispered. Harry had forgotten about his back and he didn’t need to be looking at the Dark Lord to know the man had now bypassed angry and was settling on outright pissed, the man’s magic was starting to snap around him and Harry slowly turned back around.

“There is absolutely nothing I can say to make this situation any better, is there?” Harry asked and the Dark Lord shook his head, the man had his eyes closed and seemed to be taking deep breaths to keep himself in control. Abruptly, he flicked his wand and Harry felt a mask appear on his face before the man span on his heal and left the room. Harry followed in confusion and got out of the bathroom just in time to see Voldemort wrench open the door.

“SNAPE!” He roared and Harry flinched at the sound. Voldemort pointed at the bed. “Sit down, you are making me ache just looking at you standing up.”

“It’s not that-,”

“Do not even finish that sentence.” Voldemort ordered and Harry shut up, “The fact that the muggles dare harm you…” the sentence was left hanging but the tone of his voice said everything Harry needed to know, the man had the same possessiveness in his voice again and Harry was torn between pleased and wary.

“Dumbledore didn’t help.” Harry threw in, “The man thought it would be a great idea to put a magic suppression warn on the house.”

“The old fool is truly losing what sanity he ever had.” Voldemort hissed and Harry couldn’t disagree. There was a sharp knock at the door and Snape entered when Voldemort snapped out the order.

“You called for me, My Lord.” The potions master inquired, his entire being screaming submission and Harry couldn’t help but grin behind his mask. It was a good thing to see, the arrogant, bullying potions master, who went out of his way to make Harry’s life hell in school, put in to a position where he was unable to fight back. Karma was a bitch. Snape also looked worse than Harry had ever seen him, his already sallow skin was white and taunt, his hair was lanker than ever and Harry could detect an ever so slight shaking of the man’s hands.

“He is in need of medical attention, you are to give him the required assistance then leave.” Voldemort commanded, “I shall return within the hour, and I do not wish to see one scar remaining.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Snape said with a bow. Voldemort looked at Harry, who offered a wry smile and a nod, before leaving the room at a brisk pace. Snape didn’t say anything as he pulled out his potions case and started identifying the necessary potions. Harry knew that he would need to have his back wrapped due to his wounds not being healed instantly else he scar and that was not something he needed nor wanted, but there is was no force on this planet that would make him allow Snape to touch him in such away.

“Leave the potions, the balm and the bandages on the table and then go.” Harry told the man, his voice emotionless. As expected, Snape completely ignored him and Harry’s eyes narrowed, it wouldn’t be too long before Snape would bend to his will no matter what he said, whether the man knew it yet or not. Surely, after such a terrible ordeal, the Dark Lord would allow him to have some fun?

“I said, leave everything on the table and _go_.” Harry snapped and Snape sneered at him.

“And how do you expect to heal your back?”

“Fetch me Barty.” Harry ordered, “I do not wish for you to touch me at all.” When the man didn’t look like he was going to move Harry added, “Of course, I could inform the Dark Lord that you did absolutely nothing to help me at all and only aggravated my injuries by leaving them longer than necessary.”

“Very well,” He spat, turning on his heal and billowing away as only he could. A few minutes later, Barty cautiously entered the room after knocking on the door.

“You called?”

“Yes, you are going to help me wrap my back.” Harry informed him brightly, “First we’re going to cover me in bruise salve for my ribs, then we’re going to coat my back in the laceration and anti-scaring salve before binding me up.”

“Oh ok then.”

“Let me drink this first.” Harry held up the skele-gro and drank it down, he grimaced at the taste and shuddered when he felt it going to work. Harry tossed Barty to two salves he needed on his back and stood up.

“Shall I just rub it on?” Barty asked and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, as much as possible.”

“Ok,”

Harry hissed when he felt it being applied and distracted himself by pasting on bruise salve to his torso and his face, Barty helped him wrap himself up securely so his ribs would also set in the right places and he offered the man a smile.

“Thank you.” He said sincerely and Barty shot him a grin.

“Any time. What was wrong with Snape?”

“There is just something about the man that makes my skin crawl.” Harry explained, shuddering at the thought of Snape touching him, “I don’t want his hands anywhere near my body thank you very much.”

“I understand.” Barty said, “You will explain to our Lord?”

“Yes, I am sure he will understand once I have spoken to him.”

“Ok, well, I shall see you tomorrow no doubt.” Barty said cheerfully, “Rest up, Potter. I like you.”

“Thanks,” Harry laughed, “Night, Barty.”

The Death Eater left the room whistling a jaunty tune and a wave, once the door was shut, Harry gulped down the blood replenisher and the anti-infection draught before looking over the final potion. It was a pain relief potion, a high dose which was bound to make him sleepy and the Dark Lord was not yet back. But, on the other hand, he was absolutely exhausted and his entire body ached.

“Eh, what the hell.” Harry muttered, swallowing the potion in one go, “If he has a problem with me borrowing his bed then he will just have to wake me up.” His eyes got heavy and Harry slowly climbed under the blissfully warm covers, curling up as much as his bindings would allow him and was asleep almost instantly.

 

* * *

 

His fury was abated slightly when he returned to the manor, he was later than he expected but he was rational again as he headed back up to his chambers. He raised an eyebrow at presence of Barty’s magical signature around his rooms since he had left, he would have to ask Harry how and why that came to be. He walked in and looked around, he didn’t see the teen until he reached his bed and found a shock of raven hair sticking out of the duvet. The Dark Lord blinked, and then be rubbed his eyes before looking at the bed again to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind. But it was there, right in front of him.

“He actually helped himself to my bed.” Voldemort muttered in disbelief. He stood there for a few moments not knowing how he was supposed to react to that, no one had ever done such a thing, even when he was in the orphanage no one took his bed because they wanted to avoid the Devil’s child. He shook his head and went to shower, he was covered in blood and it was starting to stick to him.

The hot water was a welcome pleasure, but he couldn’t help but think of the teen asleep in his bed, the layers of bruising and the shredded back, it made his blood boil. And he could see the teen was used to it, the way he held himself told the Dark Lord all he needed to know and it made him all the more furious. How dare anyone harm the teen? Harry Potter was his now, so he was off limits and his possessive nature was flaring dangerously. When he was clean he grabbed a towel and went out to change in to sleepwear, he did notice that his plain black pyjama bottoms were missing and couldn’t help but be amused; he had taken his clothes too, apparently.

He would have to speak to Harry tomorrow, the teen needed to know exactly what he thought of the “minor details” he left out and they would need to discuss other matters. Right now he wished to go to sleep in his bed, which was currently occupied. He could wake the teen up he supposed, and direct him to another room, but then, the teen was rather battered and he honestly didn’t know if he was actually that cruel. The Dark Lord sighed, no, apparently he wasn’t that cruel, he slid in to his bed, forcing himself not to think about who was sleeping next to him at such close range. It wasn’t good for his sanity, nor his self-control. He kept repeating the fact that Harry was fourteen in his mind, and that his morals were already skewered enough. Harry stirred slightly, before rolling over and curling in to the Dark Lord’s chest and draping his arm over the man’s waist.

Well...

He was going to Hel anyway, if he ever died, might as well enjoy everything life had to offer. He wrapped his arm around the teen, resting his hand on Harry’s hip and drifted in to the land of Morpheus.

* * *

 

Harry awoke feeling better than he had all week and it left him feeling highly confused. He was warm and extremely comfortable, his body, which should have been in utter agony wasn’t so much as aching. He hadn’t opened his eyes yet and the warmth was giving him that lovely heavy feeling and there was a rhythmic low thudding that was very lolling, Harry could get used to this. He breathed in deeply, sighing at the wonderful smell of his pillow.

And then his pillow breathed.

Harry was sure his heart stopped for a split second as his entire body tensed up, his eyes snapped open and he moved his head back slightly to look at what he had previously been sleeping on. It was then he noticed an arm wrapped around him in a less than innocent manner and Harry blinked a few times, his mind recalling what had happened the day previously and he looked up to meet amused red eyes.

Harry felt his face flame and he dropped back down with a groan of mortification; he had slept on the Dark Lord. He had physically slept on the Dark Lord’s chest on his first night at the man’s manor; just kill him now. He felt the body beneath him, and Harry realised with a start that he had dropped back down on to the man’s chest, shake slightly and he knew he was being laughed at. Harry poked the shaking body and the Dark Lord chuckled, it was a pleasant sound and that more than anything got Harry to look up.

“Um, hi.” He offered and Voldemort rolled his eyes at his words.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Harry smiled brightly.

“Yes, very much so. You make a remarkable pillow apparently.” Harry answered cheekily and Voldemort nodded, a ghost of a smile crossing his face for a moment.

“So it seems. I cannot imagine why, I am not soft.” He pointed out and Harry poked his chest lightly with a laugh.

“No, I don’t suppose you are. But then again anything’s better than the cupboard I’ve been sleeping in.” Harry said thoughtlessly and then he stilled at the indrawn breath; damn it. He should probably get control of that.

“Cupboard?” The Dark Lord repeated, none of the earlier warmth in his tone at all. Harry didn’t look at him as he bit his lip, he slithered out of the man’s hold and rose from the bed, stretching his newly healed limbs and skin. He vanished his bindings with a mere brush of his hands, revealing perfectly unblemished creamy skin for the Dark Lord to admire as he thought of a way of explaining things without making them seem any worse; and then he realised it just wasn’t possible.

“The cupboard under the stairs.” He clarified, “It’s where I lived for the first ten years of my life, and one I’ve recently been reacquainted with.”

“The muggles kept you in a cupboard.” Voldemort repeated his words again, his voice dropping to an icy temperature and Harry gave him wan smile.

“Freaks don’t deserve rooms.”

Harry felt magic flare in the air before it settled, though it was still restless telling Harry that the man was forcing his calm façade.

“Another of the minor details omitted.” Voldemort noted silkily and Harry winced at that, watching warily as the man rose and summoned a black silk robe.

“Ah, yeah, about that…”

“I do not take well to deception of any kind. I would advise the next time you feel the urge to omit ‘minor details’ from an explanation; don’t.” The Dark Lord stated coldly and Harry’s eyes narrowed and he folded his arms, he understood where the man was coming from to a degree, but he wasn’t about to come out and say ‘oh, by the way, my adoring muggle relatives beat the living shit out of me every time they see me’ and Tom of all people should know that.

“Forgive my surprising amount of reservation at revealing the muggles I am forced to live with take a sick amount of pleasure in trying beat the very magic from my soul, or that it was only through the utmost luck that I even arrived here last night alive. It could not possibly be anything to do with the fact that the last time I revealed such details I was rebuked for telling such fanciful stories and ushered on my merry way despite the fact my Hogwarts letter was addressed to the Cupboard under the Stairs.” A thick layer of dry sarcasm coated his smooth words and he bowed elegantly from the waist down, his legs crossing and his arm flaring out with grace before rising and adding something to twist the proverbial knife. “It _must_ be because, ultimately, you, of all people, would have absolutely _no_ understanding of such a situation.” Harry found himself pinned with such an intense look it made a shiver.

“You know nothing.” Voldemort stated and Harry’s lips quirked.

“Of course not, I am also the wizarding world’s saviour.” He returned easily, his mocking and derision obvious.

“Where could you have possibly heard such things?”

“You had a very talkative-,” Harry cut himself off and frowned, the diary had been ruined beyond repair when he had stuck a basilisk fang through it. His shoulders dropped and he sighed, running a hand threw his hair. “May I shower and eat before we have this discussion? I know it’s going to be a long one and the only thing I have eaten in the last week is a bowl of soup last night.”

“You may,” Voldemort allowed, choosing not to say anything on the extension of that request.

“Thanks.” Harry muttered gratefully, walking over to his trunk and throwing it open. Due to Dobby’s thoughtfulness, everything was perfectly organised so it was easy for him to pull out a pair of black jeans and a long sleeve black shirt along with his toiletries and underwear. He vanished in to the shower and relished in the hot water flowing over his skin without it stinging, he washed his hair thoroughly and scrubbed his back before stepping out and drying off with a quick drying charm. He had been unable to do so last night as his magic was just settling back to its correct flow but he was feeling refreshed today and his magic was humming pleasantly, he quickly got dressed and padded out in to the bedroom in his socks mentally preparing for the upcoming conversation. Harry sat down opposite the Dark Lord, who had gotten dressed while Harry was in the shower, and noticed to food on a tray on the table.

“I sent for breakfast.” Tom stated unnecessarily but Harry still nodded gratefully. He dug in to the food with vigour, relishing his fully healed body meaning he wouldn’t get sick when stuffing his face. He did remember who’s presence he was in so he did use all of is manners, it was a shame, should he had been alone he would be grabbing food and eating as fast as he could. Everything tasted amazing, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t eaten in a week or the Dark Lord’s house elves were just that good. Once he had finished, which took a surprisingly small amount of time, he sat back with a pleased sigh, allowing his body to absorb the food.

“You had a very talkative diary.” Harry told him abruptly and the Dark Lord blinked, he was confused for a few seconds before his mind clicked on what diary of his could have told the teen in front of him anything about his own childhood and then he stilled.

“ _Had?_ ” He questioned sharply and Harry grimaced.

“I put a basilisk fang through it.” He reluctantly admitted. The Dark Lord didn’t seem to be breathing, his mind was working furiously as he tried to process what Harry had just told him. One of his precious Horcruxes had been destroyed, by a _child?_ It would explain his sudden regain of appearance, instead of leaving the world it had re-joined its original and strengthened him and restored his human appearance. He couldn’t say he was disappointed with the results, it would make things easier should he have to go out in to the wizarding world and it meant that he wasn’t any closer to becoming mortal as he still had his others. So it wasn’t the destruction of the diary that was causing white hot anger to lick through his system, no, it was the betrayal of one of his Death Eaters, one of his Elite, who had allowed the diary to be destroyed in the first place.

“Lucius.” He hissed, rising to his feet and standing in front of the fire place.

“Yes. When I was in my second year, he slipped the diary in to the Weasley girl’s cauldron when he confronted her father. It didn’t click until after the basilisk and the diary had been destroyed and he appeared in Dumbledore’s office.  I took my own little revenge for him forcing my hand in to going down in to the Chamber of Secrets.” Harry informed him, watching Tom warily, he could feel the anger in the air but he knew it wasn’t directed at him thankfully.

“You expect me to believe you _killed_ Salazar Slytherin’s basilisk when you were twelve?” Tom asked him sceptically and Harry looked at him mildly offended. He pulled his arm out of his sleeve and removed the small secondary glamour he kept on, it was the only scar he had on his body, minus his lightning bolt, as it was impossible to heal everything from the basilisk bite.

“It’s where it bit me.” Harry clarified, seeing the Dark Lord’s raised eyebrow. “I shoved the sword of Gryffindor through the roof of its mouth, only I wasn’t as lucky as I usually am and one of its fangs got imbedded in my arm. When I way dying I pulled the fang out and stabbed the diary, I was feeling rather vengeful, your younger self was being an arrogant bastard and I thought that if I’m dying you were coming with me for setting the basilisk on me in the first place. The only reason I’m still here is because Fawkes likes me and cried on the wound before the venom had time to run its full course.” His explanation was met with a blank look and Harry wanted to smirk at successfully shocking the man.

“I’m now immune to all snake and spider venoms though,” He added. It was why when he was bitten by the acromantula in the maze, he had been able to heal by the time the Dark Lord had been reborn. His body neutralised the venom and his abilities had healed the wound; very handy.

“I see,” Tom decided that he wasn’t going to inquire anything else about the Chamber incident, he had a sinking suspicion that he was going to be listening to a lot of things that should be impossible that Harry Potter had done. He knew the teen wasn’t lying, there was just something about the way he spoke about the event that told him it was the truth, but he wanted to know something else. “What revenge did you get on Lucius? You were only twelve.”

A smirk flittered over Harry’s face and he couldn’t help but laugh, he would always remember Malfoy Sr’s face when the man realised what Harry had done.

“I knew there was very little I actively do that would affect him in any significant way, but there wasn’t a force on earth that was going to stop me from doing something to pay him back. You have to understand, the entire school year was shit. I had a house elf that was giving me strange warnings about danger at Hogwarts, I had been locked out of platform 9 ¾, Lockhart was stalking me, I was hearing voices and then the attacks started. And who did everyone blame? Of course it was me. Granted it didn’t help that I spoke in front of nearly the entire school, but it wasn’t as if the year was any good before that. Well Malfoy turned up acting smarmy and superior, he happened to have his personal house elf with him; a very familiar house elf.” Harry explained with a look of disgust before he smirked.

“So I took the diary back and followed him, confronting him and offering it back to him seeing as it was his to begin with. He tossed it aside to the elf without even looking, his belief in his superiority apparent, and threatened me before turning and stalking off, snapping at the elf to follow. Only, the elf didn’t move.” Harry’s expression of smug malice was quite surprising really, but he was very pleased with himself for what he did. “You see, I hadn’t just given back the diary, I put a sock in it too.”

Tom couldn’t help but laugh realising what had happened, that was positively ingenious and he knew Lucius would be enraged. To lose a personal house elf was dangerous and with the amount of things Lucius must have done over the years to get to where he was now there had to be some things the elf had witnessed. The blond wouldn’t have cared, dismissing the creature as irrelevant because he was bound to him, but Harry had freed him, breaking the bindings leaving the elf to speak its master’s secrets. It was also made worse by the fact that Lucius was not kind to his elves, so there was a strong possibility that the elf wasn’t all that upset at being freed. It would ruin Malfoy should the elf decide to speak.

“That is a most just revenge.” Tom murmured, extremely impressed at the forethought of the teen, who was twelve at the time.

“Made all the sweeter because the elf in question happens to absolutely idolise me and threw Malfoy half way down the corridor when he tried to kill me for it.” Harry stated in relish and Tom smirked.

“You have had possible access to the darkest secrets of Lucius Malfoy for two years and have not acted?” He said and Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Why use it now? I was unsure of how my future would play out, you did not make your regular appearance at the end of my third year and I had to battle my way through the tournament without being discovered to know more than I let on this year so I could make it to the end speak to you.” Harry pointed out, “There are bound to be things in the future that I do not like or things I want and have no access to. Malfoy has built himself a nice, unwavering image that gives him access to nearly everything our world has to offer, so if I want something he will be the one to make it happen, if he doesn’t I’ll cripple him and he will know this.”

“Your continuous acting skills are astounding.” Tom noted, marvelling on how different Harry truly was. The teen was sat with graceful ease, his magic bouncing around him almost absently, as if the teen’s very soul never wanted to be still. Everything about him was altered from what he showed the world, he had spoken to Barty about how he had observed Harry’s behaviour over the school year.

He had said that the boy was Gryffindorish, jumping in to things without thinking, lazing around instead of working and his magical work was just above average. Barty did note, however, that the boy and thrown off the imperious curse on his third attempt, which was highly impressive and completely unheard of by someone so young. Most adults couldn’t even resist the spell, and Barty was one of the better casters. There was nothing to indicate the boy was anything other than Dumbledore’s little sycophant being trained as a light soldier. But listening to Harry’s words as he spoke of Lucius Malfoy, it couldn’t be more apparent that there was very little anyone actually knew about Harry Potter. And Tom was going to change that.

“Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Dumbledore’s favourite, and yet here you sit in my manor, seeped in the taint of dark magic speaking about blackmailing Lucius Malfoy.” Tom said thoughtfully, “I do believe I shall enjoy what you have to say next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always lovely to hear from you guys!
> 
> Thanks!


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